Strawberries & Shawarma
by kkann
Summary: He who laughs last thinks slowest and drunk men make for rather interesting storytellers. Besides, what better way to get to know your new teammates than to live with them for an undisclosed period of time? Surely your girlfriend won't mind. Too much. Post-Avengers. Pepperony. Features the entire cast, humor and feels.
1. Chapter One

**A/N: **I saw _The Avengers_ at midnight. You know how it is. 'Bout near busted a gut a couple dozen times because of it. Also may have been due to the fact that it was nearly three in the morning by the time we left, but I digress.  
Couldn't very well pass up the opportunity to write something with it, even if it took me a couple of days to think of something. Toss in some Pepperony along the way and now you know how I operate. Put under the _Iron Man_ category because of that. If people think I should shift it, then I will.  
Needless to say, some _Avengers_ spoilers, yes.  
It'll get better as it goes on, what with development and such. At least, I hope it will.  
Review if you wanna, but I'm not going to push anything. I just hope you enjoy it, nonetheless. :)

* * *

_Strawberries & Shawarma_  
—Chapter One:

**"**I thought we were having a moment."  
"I was having twelve percent of a moment."  
—_Tony Stark & Pepper Potts_

* * *

"There are God of Mischief-shaped holes in my floor, Banner."

Anthony Stark scoffed, kicking at a piece of rubble by his foot and watched it roll away as it was left to its own devices before picking up his gaze to level it with one of the only other people besides him that was cause for some of the more recent damages to his newer penthouse apartment. In retaliation the meek looking man offered a lighthearted shrug, half of a smile crossing his features as he attempted to come up with an argument to defend himself with.

"Like I said, I wasn't intentionally trying to destroy your house or anything." The mild-mannered Bruce Banner said, preferring to avoid any form of confrontation if he could help it. It wasn't entirely his fault that there were large indentations in the ceramic that had once made up a rather 'nice' floor, as far as he knew. He'd had a great deal of help in wrecking havoc on it. "The other guy didn't seem too fond of Loki either. Uh, no offense."

Banner cast a sidelong glance at the blond Norse god too involved with studying the remnants of what had once been Tony Stark's couch to truly pay too much heed to their conversation, but the man of myths simply nodded at the mention of his adoptive brother's name. Both were curious as to Thor's intentions when it came to remaining on Earth for however long he was able to stay, having assumed that his goal had been to apprehend Loki and then be done with it, off to whatever realm they'd sprouted from. Neither said anything to that effect, however.

"Bruce also wasn't the one to invite him into his own house, Tony." Steve Rogers supplied, arms folded across his chest as he stood by said man's side and leaving the two S.H.I.E.L.D. agents in their company to glance up from where they were conversing quietly amongst themselves by the elevator. Something passed across Clint Barton's weary face at the interruption, but he was honestly too amused by the verbal altercation going on to say anything about it. Natasha Romanoff kept an eye on him all the same.

Stark frowned and rolled his eyes. "Yeah, because I just ushered him right on in the front door; thank you for the input, Capsicle."

Steve clenched his jaw and made to remark on this moniker he wasn't overly fond of when Natasha decided to step in before the two men finally came to blows with one another.

"Funny, you didn't get nearly so upset about household damages at your last birthday party."

"For the record, I thought I was dying," he shot back at her slight smirk, choosing to respond with a jab of his own. "And you're still on thin ice when it comes to keeping your job with legal, _Rushman._ Or whatever the hell your name is."

The statement earned an amused look from Black Widow (who'd promptly vacated her role at Stark Industries shortly after the incident with Vanko) and a confused one from Hawkeye, who frowned and mouthed the word _'legal?_' to which the woman merely shook her head with the clear indication that she would explain everything later. Bruce, relieved that the attention was off of him for the time being, busied himself with glancing all around him and trying to pinpoint every exit available to him while Steve continued to fume about the insults so graciously offered by Stark and Thor examined what appeared be the flute of a former champagne glass.

Tony had zeroed in on the gamma specialist again when the latter shifted and ended up sending a small chunk of floor skittering across the room to land at the former's feet.

"And you and the Jolly Green Giant aren't off the hook yet either," he grimaced. "You both annihilated my house."

Bruce rewarded the look with a scowl of his own. "Like you haven't?"

Iron Man grimaced at the Hulk and the rest of the Avengers tried not to look too amused as they egged one another on.

"Yeah but see, that was my fault therefore I'm in the all clear."

"How does that even work?"

Thor chuckled his amusement and then found it necessary to add in his own thoughts on the matter. "You humans are so petty."

"Can it, Thunderpants," Tony replied with one of less than stellar nicknames for the God of Thunder and earned a few glares or eye rolls to accompany the confused look from the being he was supposed to be making fun of. There was a muttered _That doesn't even make sense_ from one of the back corners, but whoever had said it was denied the opportunity to elaborate on their thoughts when another slightly accented voice added itself into the mixture.

"If I may interject here—" JARVIS began, only for his creator to narrow his eyes at the ceiling and interrupt.

"No you may not interject here," the inventor said, Steve glancing around in bewilderment as Thor followed suit.

"What form of sorcery is this?" the Norse asked, both bemused and confounded. The more technologically-adept of the bunch withheld any exasperation if only to protect Captain America's already fragile sanity.

JARVIS failed to let Stark's interruption deter him and interjected anyway.

"From my assessment it would appear that Mr. Stark is most concerned with the state of his home primarily due to it being shared living arrangements with Miss Potts."

"Cute," Clint jested from where he stood, Natasha shooting him a look as it all finally clicked for Bruce.

"Might I also add that said Miss Potts is currently approaching."

Though he may have tried to hide it, there was no denying the way his face did in fact seem to brighten up at the mention of both her name and their impromptu reunion. "Pepper's here?"

"And also quite distressed, if the readings from her vital signs give any indication."

The small smile that had formed immediately back-tracked into a frown.

"Pepper's upset?"

By means of a response, the elevator doors that he had last seen close upon Pepper and Agent Coulson the day before swiftly opened to reveal a rather perplexed looking Virginia 'Pepper' Potts nearly beside herself.

And still, Tony Stark smiled with arms held out to her because he didn't know how else to respond. He just chose to ignore the other five people in the room.

"Pepper!"

From the way her voice shook in response he wasn't sure if she was livid or traumatized, seeing as he suddenly found himself under a glare that threaten him with spontaneous combustion.

"Oh don't you even—" she began, stalking her way toward the man and about to rip into him when the abrupt shift of loose, broken ceramic beneath her foot caught her attention and it was then that she finally looked around the spacious room to take in the destruction. Indentations in the shape of a man's body dotted the floor in all directions surrounded by remnants of furniture, a vast majority of the windows were blown out, and right in the middle of it all stood Tony Stark, grinning like the fool he was.

It was almost endearing. Almost.

"What in the. . .How did. . .What. . ." Unable to form an articulate sentence, the woman could only gap around the penthouse, blinking as she tried to comprehend the scene of destruction before her. "You just. . .You. . .I don't even. . .How. . ."

His attempt to placate her was pretty much in vain.

"Now Pepper, I can explain—"

"You!" she shouted, kicking her way through bits of rubble and practically seething as she approached him. Steve and Bruce, who'd been standing nearest him, took a few steps backward for their own safety. The others were relieved to find themselves well out of firing range if their exchange came to physical blows. "You!"

"Me?" he offered, wanting to take a step back himself but finding that he was already leaning against the bar to begin with, therefore giving him very few options unless he wanted to vault over the woman that looked just about ready to strangle him.

"Yes, you," she ground out as her fingers flexed and he could almost feel them wrapping around his neck. "Do you have any idea what you're doing?"

He frowned. "Saving the world? Being awesome? Trying to convince you not to kill me?"

She hardly resisted the urge to scream. "Well good, because I think I actually _am_ going to kill you! I swear you're going to give me a brain hemorrhage or a heart attack at some point at the rate you're going!"

Pepper had him backed against the counter of the bar and he found himself glancing to his newer companions in search of some assistance. None of them made a move toward him and he briefly cursed them for their lack of support before his attention was directed elsewhere.

Namely to the person he was fairly close to deeming his 'girlfriend.'

"Do you have _any_ idea what it's like to have someone turn on the news and all you see is Iron Man flying into a black hole holding onto a _nuclear missile?_"

"—Portal to another realm, actually." Tony cut in, and out of the corner of his eye he caught Bruce shaking his head at him.

"Whatever the hell it is, it's sure as hell isn't _okay!_ What were you thinking, Tony?" She fired back, the corners of her eyes twitching as they narrowed at him.

His brow furrowed as if he honestly didn't understand what she was so upset about. He could get why she would be annoyed with having to redo their new apartment, but his heroic actions? Shouldn't she have been happy with that, or at the very least proud to some extent? "Only saving the world, Pep. You'd think—"

"—that watching you disappear into this so-called portal without any guarantee that you'll come back is okay? That watching you fall back out of it while it explodes is going to make me feel any better? Or maybe checking my phone to find that I have a missed call from you just before you decided to be a hero and then I end up berating myself for it?" Her voice softened as she continued, and the others found themselves looking away and trying not to appear as awkward as they felt during the rather heated one-sided argument. "Or maybe how I spent the entire flight back to LaGuardia and trip back here to Stark Tower praying that you weren't already dead?"

As uncomfortable as he already was with the exchanged, Tony wasn't overly appreciative of their audience and wished that maybe she would have waited until they were alone to discuss the matter that was his own mortality.

"Pepper," he stated firmly, hands rising to grasp her arms just above her elbows.

"Just don't, Tony," she murmured, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath in through her nose. "Just. . .don't."

"Pep," Completely disregarding the five other people milling about and trying to immerse themselves in half-hearted conversation about the weather or current state of the room they were standing in, Iron Man's organic being pressed his forehead to Pepper's and murmured something one could only assume was his form of an apology.

"You're an idiot and a maniac and I don't know how I've managed to put up with you sometimes." Potts muttered, eyes closed as she ignored the other beings and worked at closing the gap between her and what many assumed to be her boyfriend. "And sometimes I just hate you."

"I know," he replied, hands trailing down to her waist. "A lot of people seem to."

"I hate you the most."

Steve flushed and out of modesty looked away to study the stitching of one of his gloves as Tony kissed Pepper. Bruce coughed while the two S.H.I.E.L.D. agents took it upon themselves to quiz Thor on Mjölnir and the Asgardian simply took it all in stride.

"I still hate you," Pepper commented after she'd pulled away, the man's hands resting on the spot on the small of the back that they'd traveled to. Her own were positioned at the base of his neck on both sides so she could still strangle him if need be.

"I know," he replied, eyes still shut as he tilted his head just enough for her bangs to brush against his forehead.

"Tony,"

Rather than verbally reply, the man in question hummed in response to his name. He only opened his eyes when Pepper started to pull away, and brown locked with blue as she spoke slowly and evenly as if she herself couldn't even believe what she was saying.

"There's man with a cape in our living room."


	2. Chapter Two

**A/N: **Ah ha ha, thank you, guys! Personally, I'm glad some of you found it amusing and I appreciate all of the support! Oh my gosh you're all awesome. :')

There is one thing I would like to address, however, in response to one of the anonymous reviews: Never once did I say that Coulson was alive. All that is mentioned is Tony's recollection of watching the elevator doors close on them both as they left and Pepper's reappearance. Coulson will not be in the story unless he is mentioned.  
Hope that clears some things up. But hey, no harm done. :)

So here's your daily dosage of Pepperony. 9/10 doctors recommend it. 1/10 doctors are just jealous.

* * *

_Strawberries & Shawarma_  
—Chapter Two:

". . .Call your mom, can you bunk over?"  
—_Tony Stark_

* * *

It had taken only five minutes or so to introduce Pepper to the motley band spread before her—while skimping on some of the finer details, mind you—and a solid ten for Tony to calm Bruce down and avoid the Hulk making a surprise guest appearance when he jokingly stated that it had been the gamma specialist that had wrecked the most havoc on their 'humble' abode and nearly killed their baby.

It took a great deal of work to convince him that their 'baby' was their failed metaphor for Stark Tower as he was initially led to believe that in his hulking green state he'd unintentionally killed a child.

"I was kidding," Tony said later that night as he sprawled across his bed, for the most part trying to disregard the fact that they had five more house guests than he'd planned on. In his mind it was just supposed to be him for the night and having Pepper over was just an added bonus, seeing as she was meant to be in D.C. right about now but had backtracked the moment Iron Man had chosen to zip off into space. At least they were left to whatever remained of the couches and guest rooms.

"You have a terrible sense of humor, Tony." Said woman replied, working on dislodging an earring from her earlobe. "Stop staring at my ass."

The man blinked as if in shock at having been caught and struggled to adopt an easy going 'I have no idea what you're talking about' demeanor that she clearly didn't buy. He hardly let this faze him, choosing instead to stretch out across the comforter and expose a few inches of his stomach and chanced a smug grin at the way she paused at the sight.

Tony considered making some quip about having her join him on the bed only for his inquiry to be interrupted by a rather obnoxious yawn that resulted in a few audible pops from miscellaneous joints in his body. Slumping back against the pillows he kept his eyes closed and found that as much as he wanted to open them and take in the sight of the woman he held a deep fondness for, his body and mind were simply too exhausted to let him do so.

The shift of weight on the mattress beside him and the hands suddenly brushing against his face, however, were more than enough to have his eyes snapping open.

Pepper murmured something about his intelligence that he didn't quite catch, too focused on their close proximity.

"I leave for a _day_ and you manage to destroy our entire living room."

Funny, it had only been a day, hadn't it? So much had happened in a day and it was all just starting to catch up with him now.

Then again, a lot can happen when you go twenty four plus hours without sleep.

"I didn't act alone," Tony mumbled back as the comfortable bedding around him encouraged sleep. "I had help."

Pepper hummed in response, fingertips brushing against his hairline and nearly leaving the man purring. "Ah yes, the man you convinced that he was a baby killer?"

"I said it was a joke,"

"It wasn't really a funny one,"

"Everyone else's sense of humor sucks," he said, watching as a grin tugged at the corners of the woman's mouth. "And you seemed to find the comment about 'only twelve percent of your baby left standing' pretty amusing."

She rolled her eyes at the jest and made to pull away, only for his hands to shoot out and grasp her wrists.

"Where are you going?" Her brow furrowed as he sat up, large, rough hands moving to envelope her much smaller ones. Pepper quirked a thin eyebrow at Tony as he gave her a light tug toward his chest and re-situated himself.

"I'm going to bed. As for you—"

"Huh," he breathed thoughtfully against her cheek and smirked in satisfaction and relief at the light red hue that spread across her nose in response to the slowly diminishing distance between them. "What a coincidence. So am I."

Pepper barely got out an indignant huff when Tony's arms gave a sudden jerk and sent her off-balance, twisting the both of them until he had her back against the bed and her body pinned beneath his. She made to push him off of her and sit back up and he moved to tuck her arm into her side, busying himself with trailing the tip of his nose along her collarbone and enjoying the increased heartbeat and flush of her skin.

"This isn't 'going to bed,' Tony."

Said man hummed against the skin at the dip in her clavicle and successfully disrupted any other train of thought she'd been having. His hand trailed down from the shoulder of the arm he attempted to tuck beneath her to find her hand, interlacing his fingers with hers and giving a light squeeze. She rose her free arm and there was a momentary pause in which he was sure she was about to push him away until it snaked around his neck to hold him where he was.

Tony grinned into the base of her throat. "Close enough."

"Your definition of going to bed and the rest of the world's are two completely different things." Her words were strained as she then struggled to worm her way out from beneath him, the man beginning to peck up the expanse of her exposed neck, thankful that the shirt she'd chosen to sleep in for the night gave him more than enough to work with. Pepper unlocked her fingers from his and rose her arm to join the other, him pressing his hand to the duvet to brace himself as he hovered above her, his thumb toying with the hem of the T-shirt she was wearing and generally enjoying the 'v' of its collar.

"My definition's better," he purred against her skin, feeling goose bumps rise in response to his warm breath against cool skin and ignored the scoffed _Oh please._ "And you don't seem to mind too much." Tony grinned with smug satisfaction as she declined a verbal response and instead trailed her fingers through the hairs at the base of his skull. "You miss me?"

"Your ego could do without some stroking for one night," she replied, making it obvious that she had in fact, missed him somewhat in the past day. Just not in so many words.

Iron Man's alter-ego scoffed at the corner of her jaw just below her ear.

"My ego is like a delicate plant, Pep. It needs a lot of tender love and care. As for the stroking—"

She cut him off when she abruptly pulled away, something darkening in her flushed features and he almost considered berating himself for what he had been about to say. His smirk faltered under her glare, though her eyes pretty much betrayed her.

"Oh don't you even."

Tony chuckled all the same and ducked his head to tear his gaze away, shifting from where he was straddling her as her arms tightened around his neck. He frowned at the sudden act of near-desperation and was about to question it when she gently pressed her face to the side of his neck and nuzzled against it. One of the arms that was suspending him snaked beneath the small of her back and held her flush against his body and he simply waited.

"Don't do that," Pepper murmured, nose pressed to the point where she could feel his pulse rapidly _thump._

He lost all sense of mockery and leaned down until her back was pressed to the pillows once more and just held her to him.

The arc reactor in his chest whirred idly.

"I tried to call you," he spoke softly into her hair, burying his nose in it and temporarily enjoying the scent of her shampoo and conditioner. It, along with the rest of her, smelt like vanilla. If he'd been meaning to placate her with his words, however, then he was sorely failing judging from the way her body tensed up beneath his.

"And I didn't answer," she responded hotly, her anger more directed at herself than at him in that moment. "You tried to call me while you were off risking your life and I didn't answer because I'm an idiot I wasn't even paying attention." Pepper ripped one arm away from his neck to press her hand to her eyes. "God, Tony."

"Hey," the man cut in to her verbal self beating and scowled. "Pepper. Hey." With his free hand he gently pried her palm away from her face in order to get to look him in the eye and avoid another bout of 'I hate yous' from the woman he was so desperately attached to. She was frowning and he then decided that it wasn't a look he particularly liked on her. "Why are you beating yourself up over this?"

Tony could see her gnawing at the inside of her lip as she contemplated her answer. There was a pause before she spoke. "What would you have said?"

Obviously, this wasn't the response he'd been expecting and he regarded her carefully for a moment.

"What do you mean?"

"If I'd answered the phone," she supplied. "What would you have said?"

By means of an answer his gaze flitted away from her for a brief second to study her hair before he ducked down to kiss her.

There were a lot of things he would have wanted to say but he didn't have enough words to use at the time, too focused on the fact that there had been a nuclear missile in his hands and the fate of the world had been on his shoulders as he plummeted off into space. He would have wanted to tell her how much she meant to him, how she could have the other eighty-eight percent and that trip to Venice that he'd offered her back at the Expo—he wanted to tell her everything but didn't know how to.

He would have apologized for anything he could think of—_Hey Pepper, sorry I'm about to go blast through a black hole; Hey Pepper, I'm sorry I'm about to get myself killed_—but he wanted them to be sincere, not interlaced with static as he vanished from the Earth with only a metallic suit and the broken sound of her voice to keep him company.

Would he have told her that he loved her?

"I would have said," Tony murmured as he pulled away before moving to kiss her again. "A lot of things."

Like how he'd been completely terrified of what he'd been about to do, honestly considering turning tail and running because he'd had no idea what was on the other side of the portal and didn't want to last time he'd seen Pepper to be the last time he'd ever see her.

But he couldn't say that. Not outright.

"Such as how the company would be in your hands. . ." He brushed his cheek against hers, letting his stubble scrap against her skin. "That you'd be stuck with the damages. . ." She shivered and he gave a last, harsh whisper against her ear lobe. "That I love you. . ."

Pepper stilled beneath him. Tony found himself questioning why he'd even said it, honestly afraid of her reaction. He'd always assumed that she'd say it first.

It wasn't that he didn't, he just—

"What?" The singly syllable was a breathy sigh against his cheekbone to accompany the sound of her breath hitching in her throat. He found himself grinning—she hadn't denied nor verbally reciprocated his affections to such an extent, but in that moment he knew exactly how she felt.

"You heard me, Miss Potts." The Avenger tilted his head just to enough to accentuate every word by pressing his lips to a separate part of her face with each one. "I," Her cheek. "Love." Her nose. "You."

He silenced any protests she had by pressing a firm kiss to her mouth, shifting to cup her face with his hands, one of her own now planted firmly against the arc reactor in his chest casting both of them in a light blue glow.

When Tony pulled away Pepper didn't say anything at first, too busy kissing him back. The man quirked a 'brow at her as her eyes narrowed at him.

"You're not trying to worm your way out of this one, are you?"

He blinked uncomprehendingly. "What?"

"No tricks?" Her eyes narrowed just a bit more.

"No tricks."

"No jokes?"

"Pepper," he groaned, hanging his head and nearly bopping her in the nose with his crown. "You're seriously wounding my delicate flower of an ego."

It wasn't that he regretted saying it, but rather this wasn't exactly how he'd planned for the exchange to go. Maybe he could have been more romantic. . .waited until they were dressed rather than rolling around in sweats. . .or maybe once the rest of the Super Secret Boy Band and One Chick had finally left his house. They'd already put him in hot water with the current state of his living room and this whole why-were-you-flying-into-a-black-hole thing, so them being in his house while he finally worked up the nerve to confess his feelings didn't really help the matter.

Funny how he could only admit it after nearly dying. It seemed to happen a bit too frequently for their liking.

Her laughter broke through the unsettling haze of self-doubt and worry, and the skin between his eyebrows wrinkled as he took in her mirth. Why was she laughing at him?

"Tony," she giggled, reaching up a hand to cup his face.

His lips pulled into a pout and had her in another fit.

"For the record, I love you too."

Her breath was slammed out of her chest when he just about near tackled her, both laughing to themselves as he wrapped his arms tightly around her, peppering her neck with kisses and stubble as he rolled them around on the comforter.

"Tony!" she cried out and at the last instant realized she'd been a bit loud and her cry threatened to garner the attention of one of the others. Or Steve's, at least, what with his fantastic hearing and all. (Tony could take a few lessons from him.)

He nuzzled the side of her neck affectionately and drowsily, taking a deep breath in that was _his_ Pepper and grinning hugely to himself. She simply held him and kissed him.

"You're not quite off the hook yet, though," she said, placing a kiss to his jugular. "You still have a floor to replace."

"Huh," he whispered against her skin. "I thought you'd forget about that."

She scoffed jokingly.

"Yes, of course."

Tony rolled them over and she gasped at the feeling of his bare hand on her hip.

"That's funny, because you know something _I_ didn't forget?"

Pepper took the opportunity to roll her eyes, completely disregarding the fact that they had company as her own hand trailed up his stomach and up to his chest in order to place her palm flat against the RT.

"Oh really," she replied before he kissed her again. She was admittedly miffed when he turned away and she bit her lip at the look on his face. "And what's that?"

Tony tilted his head down just slightly to regard her with a lidded look and she failed to resist the urge to shudder as his voice lowered into a rather husky tone.

"I, for one, did my homework."


	3. Chapter Three

**A/N:** Holy crap you guys. Thank you. I'm really glad you guys are enjoying this so far. Honestly? I'm not quite sure of the plot yet and I'm just making it up as I go along, haha. XD

But! In response to another anonymous review: I wrote the last chapter off the top of my head. I in no way intended it to sound or look like some other story out there, and if there were a few bits of it that shared some similarities, I would like to apologize. I made it up as I went along, using only myself and friend [FishyIcon] for reference. All the same, I'm sorry if any parts of the last chapter seemed similar to another story, but that was never my intention. [What story might that be, by the way? Because if by any chance it's either _Sector 16.0_ or _Twelve Percent of Everything_ then no need to worry. I wrote those too. And I tend to kinda recycle ideas. XD]

And I blame FishyIcon for things just because I can. |:  
Because she's the hero I need.  
But not the one I deserve.

Sorry there isn't an awful lot happening in this chapter... ah ha.  
Bacon.

All the bacon.

* * *

_Strawberries & Shawarma_  
—Chapter Three:

"You and I remember Budapest _very_ differently. . ."  
—_Clint Barton  
_

* * *

He was falling.

He was falling and he was lonely and he was falling and—

Tony Stark was not typically the early riser, and the fact that he had awoken before Pepper left him baffled and debating whether he'd actually come back through that black hole or was still floating through space with everything exploding around him. Slight movement from the woman tucked into his side as he contemplated this was enough to jostle him from his stupor and he found himself smirking at the light frown that tugged at her mouth from his shifting around.

He'd been about to tilt his head and plant a small kiss to her forehead (just because he could) when he realized how much everything hurt.

Damn. Everything did _hurt_. He couldn't remember having been so sore before, even after donning the first Iron Man suit built out of a box of scraps. Or maybe a few of those one-night stands he was beginning to regret.

Aliens and nuclear missiles packed a mean punch. And that was separately. Add them together and it like getting kicked in the nuts, but all over his body. By someone with heels and a major grudge.

With a groan, Tony fell back into the pillows with an arm thrown across his eyes and more bruises than he cared to count right then. Pepper nestled into his side and he grinned despite the exhaustion creeping back up on him, his other arm subconsciously winding around her waist as she gently pressed her nose into his ribs and his fingers toyed with the bottom of her T-shirt just above her hip.

He was admittedly a bit miffed that nothing much had transpired after their confessions the night before, seeing as one of the first passes he'd made at her had resulted with him slipping to the floor and landing on his already bruised back with an audible yelp.

Long story short, he'd had to ask for an extension on his homework.

Grumbling to himself and desperately trying to ignore the nagging feeling in the back of his mind and the dream that had awoken him from his rather pleasant slumber, Tony instead focused on the sleeping woman beside him whose body seemed to fit perfectly with his and the fact that a few more hours of sleep couldn't hurt any.

Needless to say, he went with the latter.

He had the same dream.

He came to full consciousness slowly and painfully, clawing at the bedding around him as it suffocated him while the sensation of falling still lingered. He cursed—an angry, low growl beneath his breath—and tore the comforter away, heaving it to the other side of the bed as he gasped in raspy pants.

_Alone._

It was a sick, twisted, horrible little word, but Tony Stark awoke from his nightmare of death and heroics with no one beside him.

Briefly, he debated calling out for someone—Pepper, anyone—before he'd finally calmed himself enough to return his pulse and heart rate to normal levels. He closed his eyes and tried to take slow, calming breaths, but behind closed lids all he could see was an endless, fiery expanse of space that exploded into a furious desert and men screaming in a language he couldn't understand and asking for a weapon he couldn't build.

Tony glowered and rolled onto his side, paying no mind to the fact that he'd more or less ripped his shirt off or how much awaking without Pepper there bothered him. He'd gone a solid two months without much thought to the three that had transpired in the Middle East but apparently recent events and vanishing into another realm with a missile on his back had been more than enough to drudge up all the things he'd been trying to suppress. Tony did not like nightmares. He hadn't liked them as a child and he sure as hell wasn't about to start liking them as adult. That was not to say he was above letting them eat at him, however. He was still a human being and as such they nagged at him and made him feel small and insignificant. He just wanted to curl further into his blankets and stay there for the rest of his life.

There was sounds of talking and someone in his house.

Stark was about to tear into JARVIS and find out where the hell Pepper was before he finally remembered that he still had five impromptu house guests.

"You're kidding me," he grumbled, throwing a pillow off of his face and scowling as he sat up. His body chiding him for moving around so soon after being tossed about like a rag doll, the man swung his legs over the side of his bed and heaved himself to his feet with a grunt, wrenching open the nearest dresser drawer and snagging the first T-shirt he found.

He'd been about to shove the cotton over his head when his reflection in wall of windows caught his attention, and he paused with his arms held over his head, shirt poised and ready to go. His face and arms had a few scraps from when Loki had tossed him out of his own window, but that was truly nothing compared to the bruising on his sides and back that had resulted from the Hulk snatching him out of mid-air like an intercepted football. Stark had planned on simply venturing out and finding out where the others were in his house, but, as Pepper would presumably have told him, first things first and a quick shower was in order.

Of course, for Tony a quick shower meant sticking his body under the shower head and some steaming water and then hopping out with the hopes that he smelt decent enough. The soap in his eyes was just an added bonus.

A quick quip to JARVIS had him padding down the hall a few minutes later, gunning for the small stairway that led to another level of his apartment and aimed in the general direction of the makeshift kitchen that hadn't suffered too much damage after he'd been told where to go.

"—not my fault you can't cook." Natasha was muttering when Tony finally hopped down the extra two stairs after the landing, glancing up to find most of the ensemble (and Pepper) already gathered together.

Clint mumbled something about Tokyo and a smirk crossed the Black Widow's features as Bruce turned back to the coffee ("Decaf. Definitely. Thanks, though.") Pepper had offered him, the latter finally glancing up to their newest visitor with a smile. Tony didn't quite scowl, but he wasn't exactly grinning, either. There were, after all, a couple of people that were still pretty much strangers hanging out in his kitchen and digging through his cupboards.

Well, Clint and Natasha were. Pepper seemed to have naturally slid into the role at the stove and Bruce was seated on one of the stools nursing a cup of decaffeinated coffee and feeling more than just a little out of place. The scientist did appear rather thankful when the homeowner claimed the stool across from him, plopping down and watching the other trio prepare breakfast with mild interest. He almost didn't notice that Steve was in the room as well until Clint closed the refrigerator door to reveal the other man standing behind it.

Tony unconsciously made it a point to leer at the plate of bacon and eggs that the Captain had placed in front of Bruce while Pepper plopped a granola bar in front of the former. Slight amusement crossed Steve's face at the sight before profusely thanking Pepper when she handed him a plate of his own, the two S.H.I.E.L.D. operatives filling their own.

Barton chuckled as he claimed a stool for himself, the billionaire glowering at the bar his girlfriend had given him for breakfast.

"What'd you do this time, Stark?"

Said man gave a humorless laugh, glaring as the other smugly waved a piece of bacon before him. "I'm being punished."

The archer frowned. "For the nuke thing?"

"No," Pepper supplied from beside Tony as she finally sat down. "For being a moron."

The quizzical man's eyebrows rose.

"You punish him all-day-every-day then?"

"Oh ha ha, Legolas." Tony shot back, poking at the wrapper with the name he couldn't even pronounce. He aimed his next words at his girlfriend. "I mean, come on. The whole Expo-Vanko-I-kinda-didn't-tell-you-I-was-dying-thing was months ago. Is that going to bite me in the ass forever?"

The redhead nearest him shot him a look and Natasha hid her smirk in her own mug of coffee. Steve and Bruce just tried to take it all in stride and eat their breakfast like civilized people.

"Only on special occasions. Like when we have company and they get eat a nice breakfast and you get to just watch," she said and the man grimaced. He would have pouted and leaned back in his chair had it not been for the fact that it lacked a back. Clint had shrugged and returned to his meal, clearly enjoying his food with added theatrics just for spite and relishing the glare from the man with just a granola bar. His gaze shot to the meek scientist trying to be ignored.

"Hey, back me up here, Banner."

"Can't a man just eat his eggs in peace?" The humanized Hulk chuckled with a lop-sided grin, glancing up from the food he'd been poking at to address Stark. "It's not my fault you—hey!"

Tony grinned, taking a bite out of the bacon strip that he'd snagged from the only other man that spoke his English and earned an eye roll from Pepper. Bruce mirrored her and then slid his plate closer to himself, slipping his arm around it to guard it from the bacon thief. The others laughed at this and then not so subtly went about doing to same thing.

"Hey," he muttered, brow puckering as he watched them all shield their food from him. "That's just not fair."

He went to reach toward the gamma specialist's plate again, the latter half-heartedly jabbing at the hand with his fork in order to keep him away.

"Children behave," Pepper quipped at the two's antics, Stark mumbling a sarcastic _ow_ when Bruce smacked his knuckles after he went in for another failed attempt.

The industrialist grinned. "_That's what they say when we're together._"

Clint smirked around his own fork. "_And watch how you play,_"

Natasha rolled her eyes in bemusement, Steve unwittingly smiling despite his confusion. "_They don't understand and so—_"

"_—We're running just as fast as we can_." Bruce added in, resorting to picking up his plate and scooting his stool back to keep Tony from stealing his damn bacon.

And leave it to him to finish up their little 'kumbaya' session. "_Holding onto one another's hand?_"

Laughing in spite of herself Pepper propped her arms against the counter and her forehead into her palms.

"Oh god, what have I started?"

Tony took the opportunity to snag a piece of bacon off of her plate when she wasn't looking, Bruce having finished his just to keep it from being stolen.

"Hey, elbows off the table," he jokingly chided, poking at it with the slice of meat he'd taken from her before popping it into his mouth. "Would you prefer something else?" He smirked. "...Divinyls?" Clint choked on his eggs only because he knew what was coming. "_I don't want anybody else. When I think about you I touch_—"

The lot of them—sans Stark, maybe—had never been more thankful for the God of Thunder to suddenly make his appearance and interrupt the rest of the impromptu concert that they had going on. The Asgardian nodded to them all, smiling at the scent and sight of food and it widened slightly at the heaping plate that Pepper offered him (Erik Selvig having at one point informed S.H.I.E.L.D. on Thor's rather interesting eating habits and that information having then trickled down to the motley crew gathered together).

Thor bowed and said something along the lines of _Thank you, m'lady_ and was probably about to take her hand and kiss it when Tony cut in. Not because he was being upstaged, of course.

"Where've you been, Hammer Time? You get lost?"

"Where do you even come up with these things?" Steve muttered from where he was seated at the end, though the question wasn't heard by the man he was aiming it at (even though they were sitting right next to each other, so what the hell) and Clint just shrugged and went back to his food.

"Your abode is rather puzzling," Thor supplied as he took the open seat beside Bruce, and it was only after the scientist felt that the rest of his food was safe from the clutches of the two men sitting near him that he set his plate back onto the counter, grinning to himself and letting Pepper turn back to her coffee.

Tony just frowned as the remaining males of the group struck up a conversation between themselves—namely placing bets on how long it took until Tony tried to steal Thor's bacon. One of the men being bet on just rolled his eyes.

"I didn't think it'd be that hard. There's only part of it that isn't destroyed; only gives you so much to work with."

Unsure of how to respond, the god just quirked an eyebrow as he ate his food and drank his coffee, making a mental note not to throw the ceramic to the floor when he was done with it. Even if maybe he did want another.

There were a few moments of silence—save for the scraping of utensils against plates (except for Tony, who was drumming his fingers on the counter top and eying Thor's plate)—as they simply sat and ate, basking in the few moments of peace that had escaped them in the past day. Truth be told and despite the Bacon Thief, Bruce found it a relief to be able to sit down to a nice meal and be civil about it without having to worry _too_ much about the army breathing down his neck. S.H.I.E.L.D. could only promise so much and he was fairly certain that it was just a matter of time before General Ross came to pay a visit.

He was rather thankful when Hawkeye finally broke the silence, as it saved his thoughts from traveling down that one road.

"Did anyone else hear something that sounded like a donkey being strangled last night?"

Pepper almost choked on her coffee and Tony just frowned.

"He fell off the bed," she almost sputtered, referring to the fact that he had, indeed, fallen off the bed before they'd even gotten anywhere.

"You pushed me," he muttered hotly. To Clint, he said: "I sound like a donkey?"

Steve had turned a nice shade of pink and was making it a point to devour the rest of his eggs. Natasha pinched the bridge of her nose and Bruce just sighed. Thor had no clue what the hell a donkey even was and therefore didn't truly know what to make of the situation. He only knew that being strangled wasn't necessarily a good thing.

"No, like a donkey _being strangled,_" The archer replied nonchalantly. "There's a difference."

Tony was about to offer a fairly smart comeback when Thor interjected with a comment asking if donkeys were anything like something called 'Bilgesnipe' and then they all just stared at him.

The staring contest was cut short when Stark reached out and snatched a piece of bacon from the unsuspecting god, booking it out of the room—as much as he could with all of those damn bruises—before his victim even had a chance to realize what had even happened.

Pepper just shook her head and went back to her coffee.

Clint only had to exchange a quick look with Natasha before she rolled her eyes with a nod, a light smirk donning her features.

"Now _this_ is Tokyo."


	4. Chapter Four

**A/N: **I still don't think I can thank you guys enough.

Oh! Please, let me know if there are any other Avengers that you want to see more of, ideas that you might have for later scenes, quotes that you think could work in the beginning blurb below, maybe ideas for titles... [_X_ & _Y_?]  
Eh, shoot anything at me. :)  
All the same, I really appreciate it, guys. Thank you. ...again. I mean, I mean...yeah.

Also, angst. Expect some angst later on. I need it. Especially when one of them isn't sober. And a bit of self-reflection.  
As for the story's category...I still haven't fully decided whether it's supposed to be in _Avengers_ or _Iron Man_. I mean, part of it's focused on Tony and Pepper, and the other part has the rest of the gang. I dunno. :/

And Fishy—shut up and take it, you fool. D:

Serious chapter here. Next one is funnier, I promise. [Hopefully uploading that soon, too?] I'm actually nervous about this one—please don't be too mad! D:  
And they're out of character at the end? As for the part with Tony and the groupies and his team's reactions [maybe they're a bit off too, but it's 3 in the morning.../excuses]—perhaps it might seem a bit out of place now, but I need some sort of build-up for them to get to know the real Tony Stark and all before they can all join hands and start singing Kumbaya. Or eat bacon. Whichever comes first.

* * *

_Strawberries & Shawarma_  
—Chapter Four:

"Is everything a joke to you?"  
"Funny things are."  
_—Steve Rogers _&_ Tony Stark_

* * *

Doing the clean-up after a given mission was not exactly the highlight of Clint Barton's day, and he made it quite clear with the way he treated the remaining bodies of the Chitauri army he'd had a hand in decimating.

Of course, he wasn't going to be verbal about it. Instead he was just going to help Tasha strip them of their armor and weapons while Thor and the good Captain dragged their bodies off to a supposedly unimposing truck to cart them off to some S.H.I.E.L.D. laboratory where they'd be studied. Or whatever.

Except, y'know, most trucks weren't driven by guys in suits and sunglasses and talking into ear pieces.

Clint had, essentially, made it a point not to questions too many things when it came to S.H.I.E.L.D.'s operations—he got his mission, did his job, and got three hots and a cot for it—, but ever since his run-in with Mr.-I'm-A-God-So-Get-On-Your-Knees-While-I-Steal-Your-Mind-And-Make-You-Watch he'd been more than just a little on edge. So these S.H.I.E.L.D. agents watching them gave him wary looks while he worked. Whatever. He didn't need their praise or approval to get the job done right.

"Ah, hell,"

He'd just yanked off the helmet of the alien-thing laying at his feet and grimaced as its tongue popped out of its mouth, lolling between jagged teeth and just. . .sitting there. In truth, he hadn't really _looked_ at one before, either too wound up in firing exploding arrows at them (mind the quiver strapped to his back, just as a precaution) or relieving them of their spears to take a good look at them.

Jesus, these things were ugly.

He nudged its sunken cheek with his boot while out of the corner of his eye he caught Tony shifting through rubble with their resident humanized Jolly Green Giant, his gaze suddenly flickering around to take in his surroundings as the man tried to pinpoint the exact location of each of his companions.

Stark: nine o'clock; Banner right next to him. Talking about something. Probably science-y—would the Hulk make clean-up faster? No, he'd make more of a mess. Rogers and Thor at three o'clock were loading the seventh Chitauri body onto the truck bed and scowling, which left Natasha—

"Clint,"

—grabbing his wrist and hissing his name. Not in a harsh, angry manner, but more of a quiet whisper against his ear through gritted teeth that was her own unique way of being gentle. Hawkeye blinked and fought against her grip for a moment before his gaze finally landed on her hand, letting it trail up to his own and then frowning at himself. In one of those formerly rare moments of forgetfulness that as of lately had been occurring much too frequently for his liking, he found that in his study of the Chitauri's ugly mug his hand on take it upon itself to reach up into his quiver and snag an arrow.

Said arrow was now held over the alien's eye in a death grip, much like the one Natasha had on his arm.

So it wasn't Loki. So his plan for revenge had backfired—had almost succeeded when he sent the God of Screwing With Your Head falling through the sky—when Loki caught the arrow (which had exploded, of course. See: sent god falling through sky.) and he hadn't managed the nail the unruly bastard in the eye. But you know what? This Chitauri was the next best thing and damn if he was going to let the opportunity slip by.

He didn't say anything, keeping his eyes focused on one of the glassy ones on the ground before him, and the Black Widow only tightened her grip for a half-second before she let go.

The mentally wounded man only tilted his head just so and they reached an understanding.

Natasha turned to attend to the weapons of another Chitauri warrior and Clint staked his arrow in the dead beast's eye.

* * *

Tony Stark was used to dealing with the press—hell, his entire _life_ had had something to do with the press in one way, shape or form.

. . .Okay, so maybe that was kind of a lie. Usually Pepper or some of the people from Public Relations dealt with that, giving him a few cue cards or signals and then crossing their fingers while he approached the microphone. Of course, that plan had worked out _so well_ following the incident with Stane and the big daddy of all arc reactors. Why follow the cards when he could just stop and declare that he was Iron Man?

However, it wasn't just Iron Man dealing with the cameras and reporters and they actually wanted to make a decent impression—he had to pretend he wasn't insulted—so Steve had been graciously offered the role of figurehead (i.e. the others had blatantly said _hell no_ to it, just not in so many words) and was having a ball trying not to get too flustered with the flurry of questions flying at him.

Needless to say, Tony was amused.

That amusement only grew when he took note of the small crowd that had gathered off to the side, just passed the blockade of DO NOT CROSS signs and police officers with their arms stretched out to their sides like black and blue trees as they tried to contain the disaster area. Rescue workers were still searching for any trapped civilians and cleaning away rubble with the Avengers at their side, so he figured he could slip away for a few moments while Captain America did what he did best and boosted the public's morale. Very patriotically.

Oh god, now he was talking about "Our, uh, great city and, er, what it means to defend it." Well, it was something, they'd give him that.

Tony Stark was a people person, or, more aptly. . .good at talking to women, which most of the small crowd was composed of. The team was only a day old and already had fangirls. Well hot damn.

He'd said little more than "Hey there" and barely had his hand raised in greeting before they went ballistic.

"Well hey now, settle down, settle down." The narcissist waved his hands in a placating gesture, partly enjoying the way they seemed to watch the repulsors shift with the movement and flashed a cheeky grin at some of the bolder women who went so far as to ask him to marry them.

He gave a hearty chuckle and damn if they didn't just eat that up.

"Ladies, ladies," he said. "You know how it is being me."

And then came the shrieks that were apparently supposed to be laughter along with a few squeals after he winked at them.

"You can't just tie me down that easily—"

The noise from the groupies had been more than enough to garner attention from his teammates and he abruptly cut off at the variety of looks he was receiving. They ranged from confusion to disappointment and as a result something pooled in his gut—wait a minute, was that _shame? Shame?_ Tony Stark was _ashamed?_ Since when? How the hell did that happen?

Steve's interview had ended in order for him to get back to work on clearing away rubble and his eyes were narrowed, glaring at the other man in disgust. Tony had about to shrug it off as it were nothing—this was just Capsicle, so whatever—when he noticed the way Bruce just shook his head slowly, something darkening in his features while hints of green surfaced before he turned away, putting a bit too much focus on shoveling debris into the nearest trash bin. Natasha gave him a knowing look, and for that he almost grateful, maybe.

Thor just frowned and Clint yanked an arrow out of an alien's face, looking confused as he watched the man in the suit of armor.

Memories of last night's display and confessions suddenly hit him full force and then he understood _why_.

Strangely, Tony said nothing, turning back to the pile of broken asphalt he and a rescue team had been shifting through as he tried to ignore their stares before they went back to their work. Steve was the only one that said anything while clearly it almost pained him to cuss, and he sounded little more than disappointed.

"Are you always a jackass?"

Stark said nothing as his helmet reformed around his head and JARVIS scanned for any signs of life, but it was his father's voice that he heard rather than his comrade's.

But then again, how did this look when it came to him and Pepper?

* * *

They'd spent a greater portion of their day doing clean-up and getting into the public's good graces and now they were just tired and hungry.

Tony had debated trying to justify himself and his actions, but at the time the more arrogant side of him didn't feel like he had anything to justify. He was Tony Stark—genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist—and that was just what he did, take or leave it. Lord knows Pepper had, and Lord knows _why_ she did. And so he hadn't given them any verbal reasoning behind his actions, just pressed the UP button and took the elevator back up to the top floor.

It had been an exceedingly long, exceedingly quiet elevator ride.

He just about bounded through the doors when they'd finally reached the top, wanting to be out of the situation that was more than just a little awkward and all too happy to hear the sound of the woman he loved wandering around the remainder of their living room and muttering to herself and her phone. The rest of the gang was too curious and nosy for their own good, following after him and generally wanting to see what kind of smack down was about to occur between both Potts and Stark.

They were slightly disappointed when they found that both had a disappeared, though their voices could be heard from some other room, muffled as they were.

Steve was steadily becoming the opposite of Stark's biggest fan.

"Just. . .just what was that? How can he do that?" He was frowning and grinding his teeth and it wasn't necessarily a good look on him. "Who does he think he is? Going off and flirting with some other. . ._women_ when he's obviously in a relationship?"

Thor had his arms folded over his chest and it was a remarkably imposing sight. "While we on Asgard may partake in a variety of customs that you mortals might find offense, but perhaps none are so heinous as debauchery."

Clint wanted to mutter something about _yeah sure, okay, if you say so. Like those myths about your 'brother' having horses for kids weren't weird or anything, _but he, along with Bruce, who only looked mildly green at the moment, held his tongue and turned his gaze to Natasha seeing as she apparently had all of the answers. The other men took Hawkeye's lead and turned to her and her apparent wisdom. Steve could have had a field day ranting and badmouthing Stark, but didn't want to wind up hurting Pepper with all of this. In his mind, Tony had already hurt her enough.

Natasha Romanoff didn't like being put on the spot and damn if these guys didn't know it.

She waited a few beats and then gave a breathless sigh.

"It's. . .complicated."

Roger's brow furrowed. "It doesn't look so complicated to me. He has a girlfriend. He flirted with some other dames. That's about it."

Barton bit the inside of his cheek to keep from snickering at the use of the word_ dames._

"Not exactly," Natasha muttered, Thor piecing two-and-two together as he figured out what a dame was and Banner just looked like he wanted to be just about anywhere else at the moment. "Look, Stark can be a narcissistic, egotistical, volatile, self-centered, complicated son of a bitch, sure, whatever, but in Pepper's eyes he's apparently some decent guy. That's great and all but there are a few outstanding circumstances surrounding their relationship that complicates it. For starters, he's her boss and she's his former assistant or whatever she is now, and them coming out with their relationship not only reflects poorly on their company, but on them as well. To some degree Stark has to put up the front on him still being a playboy or what-have-you because otherwise people would begin assuming things more than they already are. They can't come out with their relationship just yet."

She shrugged offhandedly and Steve had the nerve to look ashamed of himself. "Pretending to work for some people for a short period of time actually teaches you a few things about them. Go figure."

As he regarded her carefully, Clint noticed that she was uncomfortable. She was hardly ever uncomfortable.

"There's more to their relationship than what you see, and that's what makes it so difficult."

Bruce simply nodded—he'd a similar, brief conversation with Tony back in the helicarrier's lab before everything had been shot to hell so therefore he'd already had most of the puzzle to put together—as something appeared to click in Thor's brain after the woman's speech.

Natasha would have punched him and/or maimed him had the odds been in her favor and there hadn't been witnesses just as Tony charged back into the living room with Pepper Potts hot on his heels.

"Ah, so this is similar to your relationship with friend Clint Barton?"


	5. Chapter Five

**A/N: **Be right back. Too busy sobbing because of you guys. I mean oh god.  
And by sobbing I mean grinning like a moron and feeling like a fool because you're all fantastic and awesome and I really appreciate it. :')**  
**

Ah ha ha I don't know what I'm doing with this chapter.  
But my apologies if anyone ends up insulted by the beginning**—**but to each their own, right?**  
**

Also. I don't like flying monkeys. Sweet Jesus, no.

The end of this was initially going to be in the last one before it suddenly became srs business.  
No srs business here.  
Just humor. And Pepperony. And the dramas.

* * *

_Strawberries & Shawarma_  
—Chapter Five:

"This is nothing we ever trained for."  
—_Natasha Romanoff  
_

* * *

"I don't get it," Steve managed to mumble after a few tense moments, once again garnering the attention of the others reclining in the darkened room. There was a collective, exasperated sigh at his general ignorance for the time being. It wasn't that they were fed up with him exactly—well, Tony was different story, but even then it was all in good fun—, but they weren't too thrilled with their current situation either.

Pepper had ventured off to some meeting or other to deal with Stark Industries' CEO's latest expenditure, and quite frankly Tony was just a little insulted at the note that had been left for the gang after they'd gotten out of their respective showers, letting them know that she was going out and to call if they needed anything (he was fine with that, sure, but the last bit was what got him) while also making sure to add: _Tony is NOT allowed in the kitchen under any circumstances unless supervised._

Hawkeye had made some jest about _oh, who can't cook now? _and Iron Man had threatened to clip his wings unless he knew what was good for him.

"Nor do I," Thor muttered as well, arms folded over his chest as he leaned back into the couch cushions and cut into Captain America's running commentary.

Tony kneaded his temples while Natasha turned her glare away from the source of their misery to rest her it upon the unsuspecting God of Thunder, the flickering light of the screen reflected off of her narrowed, annoyed eyes. To put it simply, Natasha was livid and Thor was just lucky that the woman didn't know how to go about killing a god (she was going to put a great deal of research into that, however). His otherwise harmless comment about her relationship with Clint had been enough to get the focus off the complicated couple that was the Stark-Potts partnership, but she wasn't going to let it slide so easily. Where Tony and Pepper were complicated, she and Clint were. . .well, now wasn't the time to get into that.

Speaking of Barton, he looked just about ready to gouge his eyes out.

"Remind me why we're watching this again?" Bruce piped up from his corner of the plush rug he'd taken up residence on, having politely declined the offer to scrunch up between Steve and Tony on one of the couches, Hawkeye sprawled across the other with his back still bugging him and Natasha seated on the other side of the rug by his head. (Dr. Banner's orders. Hawkeye had said he would find some other place to sit, but he didn't want to anger the good doctor by protesting too much. Besides, the couch was comfy and his back still really hurt.) "Because the other guy doesn't seem to like this too much either."

_Introduce Steve to some twenty-first century pop culture, _they said._ It'll be fun,_ they said.

"If he says he wants to kill her, why doesn't he just kill her then?" Clint grumbled, tossing his hand to his forehead. "I mean really. The hell is this."

"Masochism." Natasha replied, and Bruce nodded thoughtfully.

Clint was about to say something about '_that whole adrenaline rush and the van thing' _and how he had more of an adrenaline rush going to the bathroom, but saying so probably wouldn't sound too tasteful so he bit his tongue.

Steve looked utterly appalled. He figured he might as well blame Tony for it and as such shot him a look.

Stark wasn't going to have any of it. "Hey now, if you don't like it you can blame JARVIS. _He_ recommended it, after all. Blame him."

"With all due respect, Mr. Stark, _I_ did not by any means promote this film. You chose to watch it of your own volition." Could an AI sound insulted? Because JARVIS sounded insulted, clearly not too thrilled with the idea of being blamed for something that wasn't even his fault in the first place. If anything, they ought to have been blaming their recent Netflix queue, not him. Seriously.

"I asked you to find us something popular and recent that we could educate Capsicle here with," The AI's creator hooked a thumb over his shoulder at the man seated beside him, scowling more so at the movie than at the nickname (though the nickname did still bother him). "Not. . .this. What did we do to deserve this?"

"This _is_ popular, sir." JARVIS responded coolly, as if speaking to a moron. Steve still found the bodiless voice unnerving, but he was still more bothered by what he was watching than anything. "Are you not fond of what the rest of the human population deems as such?"

"People actually _watch _this?" Clint hissed, looking utterly bewildered. "And they _like_ it?" Bruce simply sat and looked disinterested while Thor frowned and tried to figure out what story he was supposed to be watching. Apparently this man wanted to kill this woman, but he loved her and instead chose not to. Made some sense. Not a great a deal, but. . .some.

"JARVIS, these people are saying that lions and lambs are falling in love with each other. This is promoting cross-species relationships that should never, under any circumstances, inebriated or not, be thought of." Tony said, fingertips massaging his temples as Barton grabbed a nearby pillow and shoved it against his face. Natasha briefly caught him muttering something along the lines of _I don't want to live on this planet anymore._

"Would you like me to turn it off, sir?"

"Yes!" both Steve and Tony shouted while Bruce and Clint asked for their suffering to come to an end.

Needless to say, they were all rather pleased when the movie came to an abrupt halt, an alteration of the spinning wheel of death cropping up at the bottom of the screen as the program prepared to bring them back to the home screen and a vast selection of other titles when something else caught the eye of the Hawk.

He flung the pillow across the room and nailed Thor in the head with it in his sudden rage.

"Holy shi—is he _sparkling?"_

* * *

Pepper returned three hours later to find five of the Avengers spread across what had been deemed the entertainment room immersing themselves in the wonderful world of the last ten minutes of _The Wizard of Oz_ and Tony sitting in the kitchen in the same spot he had been that morning.

"I thought I said you weren't allowed in the kitchen alone?" she asked as she pulled the refrigerator door open and helped herself to a bottle of water. She heard a huff of breath from behind her and rolled her eyes before she turned, closing the door with her hip and leaving them in the dim light of the New York City dusk again.

Tony shook his head, glancing up from his own mostly empty water bottle, chin propped up on his hand as he watched Pepper lean against the counter. "I was waiting for my chaperone, but now that she's here I think I should be okay."

Her eyes roved skyward again in jest, smirking as he tried to subtly gesture for her to come to him. Without missing a beat the woman twisted the cap off her bottle and rounded the counter, pausing just out of his reach to take a drink and gauge his expression.

"Stop teasing me," he frowned as she inched just a bit closer to him, reaching out to grab at her waist and drag her the rest of the way, forcing out a startled breath from Pepper and trapping her between his knees. Tony leaned forward just enough to nuzzle the juncture between her shoulder and neck and took her drink from her grip to place it next to his, smirking into her skin at the sensation of her hands reaching up to his shoulders. "I don't like being teased. It's mean."

Pepper let out a light laugh as her arms wrapped around his. "Your bonding session not go well, I take it?"

Tony almost snorted into her neck.

"Something like that. Apparently JARVIS decided that movie night included S&M inflicted upon _us_ and we didn't appreciate that very much."

His girlfriend grimaced at the remark and he pulled away just enough to take it in. There was a beat before she glanced at the ceiling.

"No witty comeback?"

"I muted him," he said.

"Did you?" she hummed.

He nodded, free hand reaching out in order to hold her waist on both sides. "He was getting feisty. I don't like it when he's feisty."

Much to his dismay, Pepper started to pull away at that remark though the humor in his features was enough to calm him. Her thumb toyed with the hairs at the nape of his neck and he closed his eyes at the feeling, unconsciously leaning into the touch. She smiled, shifting slightly.

"Oh? So are you going to try to mute me next time I get on your nerves?" Tony snickered at her sarcastic inquiry, brown eyes sliding open with that certain mischievous twinkle he tended to reserve just for her, whether they were in-private or not. Pepper sighed in response to the look, her breath brushing against the hairs around his lips as he'd inclined his head just a bit closer to hers.

"Nah," he murmured, pausing just a few centimeters short. "See, it's different when you get feisty, because I like that." She scoffed at that. "But the means by which one must go about muting you tends to be much more interesting than simply saying the word 'mute.' And. . ." His fingers squeezed her waist and she jumped. "Might I add, much more fun."

Tony's chuckling was muffled when she kissed him, unhooking one arm to swat at him before it returned to its previous position as his own wound around her waist. Pepper did, in fact, have to admit that this means of shutting one another up was much more appealing. Tony obviously vehemently approved of the method as well from the way he was trying to hold her as close to him as he could without crushing her.

He grinned against her mouth as she pulled away and quirked an eyebrow at her own similar expression. "See what I mean?"

Pepper laughed and his grip on her vibrated as she did.

"I suppose so." Tony frowned and her brow furrowed as he hummed to himself, his eyes narrowing as he studied her carefully. "What?"

"I don't know if it's working," he muttered, almost pouting. "You're still talking."

At any other given time, Pepper would have been insulted but with their position she couldn't have been more amused by both their circumstances and his advances.

"We should probably get to work on that then," she said.

"Probably," he replied, tugging her closer again.

"You don't want all of that work to be for nothing."

"Absolutely not," he nodded. "Can't just go throwing it away now."

"Not after all that time and effort,"

"Of course,"

"I think we ought to give it another test run," Pepper said, and he smirked as she took the initiative, leaning over him again with her eyes half-lidded in such a way that he was sure was going to throw his arc reactor into a tizzy. It was clear that something else was bothering him, but she didn't have it in her to bring it up just then and ruin the moment. There was always time to ask about it later when he wasn't making passes at her or they weren't otherwise occupied.

"I think we definitely should." Tony was the one to close the gap this time, hand trailed up her spine and holding her there as her hands moved to cup his face. In the darkening twilight said arc reactor was one of the few sources of light in the room, casting a muted blue glow between their bodies.

He would have preferred that they stay like that, but then suddenly there were otherwise unwelcome voices traveling down the hall and Pepper was twisting out of his arms.

". . .what a monkey looks like, Thor. Just with wings."

"Does your typical monkey not possess wings?" Thor was asking in response to Bruce's statement, genuinely curious and grating on the man's patience. He'd been the only one to take it upon himself to fill in the blanks and answer the god's questions, seeing as the other two clearly didn't know what to do and Steve was too enthralled by something that he understood to even think of the fact that Thor had no concept of the Wicked Witch and Dorothy. Never mind the high quality picture.

"Not exactly," Banner said, looking all too relieved when the blond Asgardian nodded, satisfied enough with the answer. The former shot a look at the seated billionaire clearly stating that he would get back at him later for ditching them for the last half hour.

"I hate flying monkeys," Tony muttered to no one in particular, though the archer nodded his agreement to the Black Widow's eye roll.

Steve shrugged before politely smiling and greeting Pepper under the scrutinizing gaze of Stark while Clint sauntered on over to the fridge and took it upon himself to rifle through it in search of something.

Tony could only stare. "Help yourself, by the way."

The man digging through his food supplies flashed him a grin while Natasha smacked his arm, Pepper engaged in conversation with the three men she didn't know that well. (Not that she really knew of them, that was. Here she'd thought she'd known Natalie and suddenly she'd turned into Natasha. In all honesty the six of them hardly knew each other and now they were expected to work together. Some major group work was needed to be done.)

"Thanks, I appreciate it."

He'd only known the man for maybe a day—almost, but not quite a day given the whole Loki-mind-control-thing—but Tony had already decided that he liked Clint.

But still. The guy was practically helping himself to his food and he was already—hey, since when did they have green tea? When had he missed that? Oh god were those _strawberries? _Who'd brought those? Was that some kind of sick joke?

Tony had been about to inquire upon what he thought to be unholy red fruit gracing his refrigerator shelves even though in the end they would turn out to be grape tomatoes when Pepper's phone suddenly decided to spring to life and catch them all off guard.

Clint nearly did a back flip and threw his bottle of tea at his partner's face while Stark's former-PA-who-knew-what-she-was-really-supposed-to-be-now flushed and carefully extracted herself from the conversation she'd been having to apologize and take the call.

"Virginia Potts, Stark Industries," she said in a rather clipped tone as she made her way to the other side of the room. Steve frowned at the greeting, shifting his gaze to her apparent love interest.

"I thought her name was Pepper?"

Shrugging dismissively and not caring to divulge to the story of her moniker, Tony busied himself with twirling his bottle cap around. There were a few beats of silence save for the murmur of Virginia "Pepper" Potts on the phone before the others were welcomed to make themselves at home and find something edible in the kitchen.

Having found an apple to munch on, Bruce timidly took the seat opposite his apparent 'science bro,' tossing the fruit between his hands and watching in amusement at his friend's enthrallment with the piece of plastic he was playing with. Natasha hopped up onto the counter while Clint leaned against it, having a silent, private conversation through eye contact before she suddenly swiped his drink, leaving him baffled. Out of the corner of his eye Tony caught Steve and Thor completely _devouring_ the pizza he and Pepper had planned on sharing in celebration before Coulson had come in and interrupted.

Banner chuckled to himself and gnawed at his food, observing pensively as Tony swiveled on his stool just a bit, leaning on his elbows against the counter top with his eyes on Pepper and frowning as she paced.

"...yes, I understand that I did miss the meeting in D.C." she was saying.

Bruce's gaze flickered from the redhead to the brunet watching her, continuing his study.

"No he wasn't drunk,"

That statement was successful in the capturing everyone's attention, Clint pausing in his attempt to steal a slice of pizza from beneath Thor's nose and Tony's frown twitching. Pepper glanced at him and pulled her hand away from her temple, making an upward swooping motion with it, making a fist and quickly pulling her fingers away from her palm to mime an explosion and Stark shook his head in response.

"No, no he wasn't," she turned back to her pacing as she talked, reprimanding herself for not having left the room to take the call. Steve, Bruce, and Thor had been standing by the doorway and she thought it would have been rude to wedge her way past them. Now she was regretted not having asked them to move. "No that doesn't mean I fully support his decision. . .Yes I understand that. . .No that's not how I thought it would happen. . .Do you really think that was my intention?"

Painfully aware of the eyes on her, Pepper felt her face go scarlet and Tony would have chuckled at it had in not been for the weariness in her tone. All the same, he chanced a small smirk, partly aware of what her conversation was about.

"He's who he is—how much control you think I have over him?" She stopped in her ministrations to return her palm to her forehead, closing her eyes and letting out a long suffering sigh. "Yes I am fully aware of that."

Deciding that she'd endured enough and he was really looking forward to continuing their 'mute' discussion earlier, Tony decided that it was high time her phone call came to an end and he shoved himself away from the bar, striding toward her with purpose. Natasha nudged Clint, tilting her head in Captain America's direction and the man got down off of the counter and in turn nudged Steve, nodding at the two on the other side of the room. He inclined his head and regarded Stark's actions warily.

Pepper was in mid-statement when there was suddenly a hand on her shoulder and she whirled around just in time for Tony to pluck her BlackBerry from her hands.

"Tony, what do you think you're—"

He held his hand on her gently but with enough force to keep her from taking her phone back.

"My apologies for the intrusion, but it would appear that you are causing Ms. Potts quite a bit of distress and it is honestly with no regret at all that I come to inform you that Ms. Potts has much more pressing matters to tend to at the moment. Namely those in the bedroom. Sorry for springing this on you so suddenly, but duty calls! Good night."

Steve's face was red enough to match Pepper's and Bruce's apple had bounced off of the bar to roll around on the floor.

"Is he always. . .?" Clint had begun to ask to which Natasha nodded.

Flashing her a sly grin Tony promptly ended the call and took Pepper's hand, depositing the phone and feeling rather satisfied with himself.

"There, problem solved. Now we can give the board something to freak out about for the night and then we can clear it up tomorrow morning and tell them I was being an idiot." He paused, tapping his chin in mock-thought. "Or we can always, even though you already told them that I wasn't, tell them that I was drunk and that it was all just a misunderstanding. Maybe we can tell them that we were actually talking about buying a new bedspread and say they were just taking it the wrong way."

Pepper just stared in utter bewilderment and his smirk faltered.

"Pep?" Tony gave her shoulder a light shake, if only to make sure that she was still with him. "Pepper? Say something?"

"Oh god," was all she managed to choke out and he wasn't sure what to make of it. The other Avengers didn't know what else to do but watch.

The current source of her duress let his brow furrow. "Pepper, relax. It's just the board. I screw with them all the time; I thought we'd established this like. . .a decade ago." He snickered. "That was the board. . .right?"

"Oh god, Tony why?" Pepper then buried her face in her hands and the man in question turned to the group behind them in search of support or answers. They gave him neither, really, still shaken but his blunt interruption and the woman's current reaction.

Steve cleared his throat awkwardly, shoving the pizza box toward Clint and Thor.

"Tony, Tony why would you do that..." she shook her head, leaving Stark unsure of how to go about things.

So he just shuffled around and waited for her to drop the bomb.

And drop the bomb she did.

Pepper pulled her face from her hands, something akin to anger or irritation passing through her features for a brief moment before it was once again replaced with shock and—wait a second, was that _fear?_

"Tony, that wasn't the board. That was my _father_."


	6. Chapter Six

**A/N: **Oh man, your responses to the last chapter... Glad you enjoyed Tony's slip and Pepper's fear. :)  
As such, I tried to churn this out just to see how it goes. Didn't go exactly as planned but...I didn't know what else to write. I really don't know what's going on here. D:  
More humor and drama! Woo!  
But no bacon! Boo!

Also! My characterization of Clint Barton/Hawkeye is based off of what I've seen in the cartoon _Avengers: Earth's Mightiest Heroes_, what with his attitude and sarcasm. My knowledge of him [...and generally everyone aside from Tony Stark/Iron Man] is rather limited, so I'm going with what I do know.  
Because that's always fun.

/sorry for any typos I didn't catch. I was in a rush to post this and I'll go back and fix them in a bit. xD

* * *

_Strawberries & Shawarma_  
—Chapter Six:

"What just happened? Please tell me nobody kissed me."  
—_Tony Stark  
_

* * *

The look on Tony Stark's face was rather priceless. A bit more than just a little terrified, but still priceless.

In all honesty, Natasha had never seen such a mortified expression on the billionaire—granted, he'd looked none-too-thrilled with the palladium that had been poisoning him the first time she'd met him, but she had to admit that he possessed a pretty good poker face since he'd only ever appeared to her more uncertain than terrified.

But that was nothing compared to the paled features of the man that had once talked his way out of more than one scrape.

Then again, those 'scrapes' hadn't involved telling Pepper's father that she couldn't talk on the phone because she and Tony were too busy having sex. First time for everything, apparently.

Natasha couldn't help but let a small smirk slip out at the way Iron Man winced at the unholy glare from his girlfriend and the way she ground out her words. "Do you have _any_ idea—"

"Uh," Tony eloquently cut in, shooting a glance at his comrades in a fashion not unlike the way he had the day before, having been in a slightly similar situation that had involved Pepper yelling at him about black holes (well, portal to another realm, actually) and missed calls. He would have preferred repeating their earlier argument, especially if it again ended in the discussion that it had last night. He also much preferred kissing her than dodging her punches. "I can explain."

"How!" she practically shrieked, hands flying to the sides of her head as her BlackBerry found a new resting space on a nearby couch.

Bruce had left his apple to loll on the floor, folding his arms against the counter to simply observe the rather unorthodox exchange. Steve's face had a dusting of pink to it and Clint wasn't sure whether to chuckle or try to break up the one-sided fight so instead he just idly fidgeted. Thor had quickly pieced everything together, using the others' reactions and Tony's words as frames of reference. He was both amused and disturbed by the way the Man of Iron so readily informed company of his relations with his significant other, but something told him he shouldn't have been surprised.

Tony tried to smile at Pepper and see if that did any good, but it quickly became clear that if he wanted to live to see tomorrow he probably should refrain from trying to be funny. That was how he'd gotten into this mess in the first place.

"Did you really think that telling anybody, let alone my _father, _about our sex life was a good idea? Do you _want_ it to be nonexistent?" His girlfriend continued, and he took a few steps back to put some space between them least she swing at him, though she was still too flustered to hit him. Tony winced at the question, both insulted and wounded at the words. (Yes, he liked sex. Sex with Pepper was brilliant. Pepper withholding sex was just _mean._)

"Do you _have _to say that?" he made an annoyed sound in the back of his throat because now he just_ knew_ that the others were listening in if they hadn't been already.

Pepper had opened her mouth to retort when her phone suddenly screamed to life again, vibrating at the couch cushion in an effort to make its presence known. She along with the other five Avengers shot it a look and Tony immediately shook his head, holding out his hand as he waved it.

"Ah, ah, ah!" he took a step forward and then promptly back-tracked when the woman shifted.

"Tony, I can't just ignore him!" She shouted, something passing through her features. "He's my—"

"Dad! I know!" The man in question shot back, the phone rattling away while the others sat back and watched. Tony was about to lunge at it and chuck it out the window (he'd just buy her a new one if he didn't just make her one himself) when Pepper suddenly snatched it and threw it at him. "What!"

"You talk to him!" she declared as he fumbled with it.

"Pepper, no I—" he tried to say, tossing the BlackBerry back to her.

"If you're going to say things like that than _you're_ going to be the one to take the heat for it!"

Tony let out a slight grunt when the phone connected with his chest, and they then spent the next fifteen seconds playing hot potato with it. Their guests simply sat back and enjoyed the show.

Stark cursed under his breath when he ended up being the one that had to answer it, and that earned only a look of mild relief from Pepper. He grimaced as his thumb accidentally jabbed against the green button and an irritable voice suddenly burst through the small speaker. It was with a great deal of reluctance that he finally brought the phone to his ear and he winced in response.

"Ah, hi Mr. Potts," he was barely able to get out before he visibly paled, the muffled sound of shouting the only audible thing in the room.

If he tried hard enough, Steve could make out vague fragments such as '_no daughter of mine,_' '_who does he think he is,_' and something about the '_sort of environment you're going to raise my grandchildren in._' Steve couldn't very well picture Tony surrounded by a bunch of Stark Jr. Jr.s, but he didn't say anything. (Heaven forbid the day Tony Stark reproduced!)

Tony let his girlfriend's father chew him out while failing to get in a few words edgewise and then quickly held out the phone to Pepper with little more than a quiet, "It's for you."

Pepper tried to glower through something akin to terror and slowly took it from him, the man calling them still shouting away even though he wasn't didn't know who he was talking to at the moment.

"Dad—"

"_VIRGINIA MARIE POTTS, WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?_"

She nearly dropped her phone at the outburst while everyone else promptly learned her full name.

"Look, dad," she hissed in an attempt to get him to quiet down, though he clearly wasn't going to have any of it. Pepper let him carry on with his tirade for a bit, glancing between her BlackBerry and the equally (if not much more so) bewildered Tony Stark as she tried to find some course of action to take. What she'd come up with wasn't exactly the best idea she'd ever had ("Dad, you're, uh...you're breaking up.") but no one else was helping.

She never did get the chance to make her excuse though, when her father said something that only she caught and her expression went from troubled to insulted to forcefully indifferent.

Clint propped his elbows back on the counter and rose an eyebrow as he watched the redhead swiftly end the call and level her boyfriend with a certain look.

Tony took the opportunity to vault over the couch, letting it serve as a barrier between him and Pepper.

"Now Pepper," he began, holding his palms up in a universal gesture of surrender. "Let's not be too hasty here."

"Do you _have_ a death wish?" she shot back, folding her arms across her stomach as some of the indifference dissipated into irritation. "Because you've really been testing your limits the past two days."

He flashed her a weary grin and braced himself against the furniture separating them. It faltered when she failed to appear at all amused.

"Not exactly. I mean, I don't really make it a point to try to get myself killed, but given my current track record I guess the jury's still out on that." Pepper's eyes narrowed just so as he said that, and Bruce (along most of the other people in the room) suddenly felt extremely out of place. More so than they had during the first phone call, at least. "Then again," Tony continued. "Does anyone have a death wish, really? Sure we all say stupid things—" Pepper rose an eyebrow just so. "—okay, a _lot_ of stupid things, in my case, but it's not like I'm really _asking_ to die, right? I'm just, uh, courting death, should we say? Dancing with the devil in the pale moonlight?"

"Tony," Bruce chimed warningly in the background, and said man nodded briefly at his name.

"Right. Shutting up."

Steve frowned in a manner that was almost bemused. "I don't think you really know how to."

"Ah ha, no quips from the peanut gallery," Stark called over his shoulder, though his focus was still on Pepper. He wanted to know what her father had said that had cause such a sudden change in mood, but thought better than to do so with their current company.

As a result, Tony bolted out of the room (for the second time that day sans bacon, and again the bruises didn't help matters any) the very moment Pepper took a step toward him, looking all the world ready to slug him.

She let her phone clatter back to the couch, releasing an annoyed huff, "Would anyone mind punching him for me?"

Bruce responded with a timid chuckle before politely excusing himself and retrieving his apple from the floor, having decided to follow Tony's example to head to the room he'd been offered, more than looking forward to a few good hours of peace and quiet. Thor and Steve also took this as their cue to leave, though the latter was somewhat aware that part of him probably wouldn't have minded going a few rounds with Stark Jr., though he wasn't about to tell Miss Potts that.

Clint and Natasha were the only two left in the room when Pepper's cell phone sprang to life for the third time that night, though this time she simply turned it off and debated yanking out the battery.

"Sorry you had to see that," she said when noticed the two S.H.I.E.L.D. operatives, having the nerve to look sheepish as she did so.

"Could've been worse," Barton shrugged with brief snicker. Pepper's brow furrowed and she'd been about to ask what he meant when Natasha shook her head and interjected.

"Never mind him," the Black Widow stated, and he 'hrmph'd in response as she smirked. "Just go knock some sense into your boyfriend."

"I don't think that will be an easy thing to do," Pepper grinned back, managing a small laugh to accompany Clint's before she conceded, bidding them both a good night before wandering off to the room she shared with Tony.

Admittedly, they did all find it a bit strange to be heading off to bed at such an early evening hour (although perhaps nine p.m. wasn't exactly early for _some_ people), but it had been a rather long and exhausting day of clean-up and something told them that they'd be doing the same thing tomorrow. The Chitauri hadn't exactly been picky about what they'd destroyed or where their bodies landed.

Barton took a final swig of his tea before discarding his bottle accordingly, apparently not feeling the need to address the woman beside him. He'd bid her a quick 'good night' and had taken a few steps away from her when her voice suddenly broke the silence.

"You haven't been sleeping," it was a statement, not a question, and his stride faltered for the briefest of seconds. He said nothing for a moment, his back still to her.

They let her assessment linger in the air before he finally turned, and the exhaustion he'd been hiding for the past two days was clearly evident. As if the mental strain of Loki toying with his mind hadn't been bad enough, the physical surely hadn't helped matters any. But he was who was, and he wasn't about to let years of training and perseverance suddenly become undermined just because of some god and a war with aliens (he was sure also he'd gotten a concussion from when Natasha had clocked him).

"Tasha,"

"Clint,"

Hawkeye frowned just enough to tell her that he didn't want to have this conversation here and now—as if his initial delayed response hadn't done the job—, but she took the hint, pursing her lips a bit and withholding whatever else she'd been about to say for the time being.

The exchange was wordless, but carried the same weight it would have had it been said aloud—_Would you be able to, after everything?_

Natasha broke eye contact first.

"I saved your life and you saved mine," Clint finally said after a few beats of silence. "You don't owe me anymore."

With that he pivoted and continued his journey out of the room, his shoulders squared against exhaustion. He'd just made it to the mouth of the hallway when his partner spoke again.

"Are you sure about that?"

She let that hover between them, and he slumped just a bit with a small sigh.

"Goodnight, Tasha."

* * *

Half an hour later, Pepper walked out of the bathroom to find Tony sprawled across the bed face down and shirtless.

She let out a soft sigh as she went back to toweling her head, shaking her head at the display before wandering over to the closet in search of something to wear to bed for the night. The door she'd meant to use as a shield from his prying eyes hadn't fully shut behind her, but it wasn't until she began removing her robe and glanced at the mirror at the far wall of the walk-in closet that she noticed that his face was turned to her. Pepper just about squealed when they made eye contact, tugging her robe closed again turning a shade of red to match her hair.

"Tony! Really?"

Tony gave a disparaging grunt when she whirled around, her arms hugging her pajamas to her chest as she frowned. He made to say something but figured he was already in enough hot water for that comment to her father. No sense in having it reach a boiling point. Muttering something to himself about her not letting him have any fun the inventor shoved his face into the pillows again and waited for his girlfriend to come back and start beating the crap out of him.

He was just coming up with different scenarios when she returned, running her fingers through her damp hair and squinted at the prone form of Tony Stark in the dim light of his bedroom.

"Are you trying to seduce me, or are you just making sure you don't end up on the couch tonight?"

His reply was muffled. "Is it working?"

Pepper laughed humorlessly, rolling her eyes before kneeling on the edge of the bed. She reached out to smack him as his reward for his obvious lapse of thought when it came to speaking with to her father, but whatever she'd been about to say was abruptly cut off by the sharp gasp as Tony twisted away from her. The woman frowned, eyebrows knitting together as her boyfriend shifted back into his previous position.

"Tony?" He let her inquiry go unanswered for a moment, hoping that she'd simply cast it aside as nothing more than a half-hearted attempt at being funny. Virginia Potts was not oblivious, however, and she knew the man well enough to know when something was up (at least, she hoped she did. They were still working past the Expo and palladium situation.) "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he answered a bit too quickly, reaching up to fold his arms beneath the pillow he was burying his face into. "Don't worry about it."

Squaring her jaw Pepper promptly turned and adopted her no-nonsense mask before addressing the AI. "JARVIS, could you brighten the lights a bit?"

Tony made another annoyed sound and was muttering for JARVIS not to in an attempt to override his partner's command, but his remark came a bit too late—the room wasn't as dim as it had been and judging from the sudden intake of breath from behind him Tony was sure that Pepper had seen more than enough.

"Tony, why didn't you say anything..."

"Pep," he began in minor exasperation, turning away from his pillow to face her and the slight shock passing through her face. His gaze flickered across her features before he met her eyes. The old Tony Stark would have just pushed her away and told her to stop worrying so much; the new and improved Tony Stark was just tired and his body was still sore from having to deal with an alien invasion. "Please. Just..."

She nodded slowly, and he watched carefully as she moved up the bed until she was seated just beside him, his side sagging a bit toward her knee. There was a moment of hesitation before Pepper reached toward him again and he let out a soft hiss as her fingertips just barely skimmed his back. Tony watched as she struggled with the troubled look on her face and his gaze wavered a bit as he closed his eyes at her touch. He could feel her hands cautiously moving across his back, just barely tracing the outlines of the bruises he'd acquired over the past few days, the darkest and largest of which were at his sides and the middle of his back, and she could almost make out what looked like the outline of a large arm wrapping around his abdomen.

"How...?"

"Bruce grabbed me when I fell," Tony murmured, eye cracked open and she paused in her ministrations as a blue gaze met brown. Pepper held her tongue for the time being, simply nodding before returning to her study of the marks adorning what she could see of his torso. She'd wanted to comment on the fact that she was both surprised and bothered that she hadn't seen them and he hadn't said anything the night before, but then again they'd been otherwise occupied and he'd been wearing a T-shirt.

"You should have said something," she finally said after a few moments and gave a small shrug.

"And ruin the moment last night?" He chuckled briefly, hissing as her fingers ghosted a bit too close to one of the larger bruises. "I don't think—woah."

Tony more or less lost all train of thought when he felt a small fist press into the center of his back, kneading at one of the knots in it. He screwed his eyes shut and was generally oblivious to the fact that Pepper had moved until he felt her knees against his hips. He chanced out a sly comment through a groan.

"Are you coming on to me, Miss Potts?"

He hissed when she pressed a fingernail into his shoulder blade. "Shut up, Tony."

"No, I—where did you even learn to do this? I mean, oh god Jesus—okay, ow that hurts, but when did—" His groan has escalated in volume and though he couldn't see her blush he could feel it.

"Tony, I mean it. Shut _up_," she hissed back from wearing she knelt straddling him, leaning forward as the tips of her damp hair graced his shoulder.

His only reply was another moan, though this one was pained more than anything.

"I thought this wasn't supposed to hurt so much," He clenched his jaw when one of her hands brushed against a bruise and he immediately saw the impromptu back massage heading downhill. "Oh god, what did I do to deserve this _paaaiin._" Tony dragged the word out in his pillow, muffling it as his girlfriend went back to working at the knot in his back again. "No don't answer that."

"Tony, please!" Pepper whispered harshly when he groaned again. "You're making a lot of noise and someone's going to come in here!"

"And what?" He ground out. "Be jealous? Oh, _god_."

"Last time I try to do anything nice for you," Pepper muttered.

Then she pulled away and made a move to get up, but Tony decided he wasn't going to have any of that. For a man with a decent number of bruises, he was still fairly mobile. As such, she gave an indignant gasp when one of his hands lashed out to grasp her wrist and pull her back down to the bed before his buried his face in the side of her neck, much in a similar fashion as he had the night before.

"Was there something you were trying to gain from that, Miss Potts?" He hummed against her throat, rather confused as to why she'd suddenly more or less come on to him while he'd been lying with his back to her. "My injuries some sort of kink for you?" She scoffed and made to pull away and he only tightened his grip on her to hold her where she was, busy exploring the expanse of her neck. "Or were you looking to continue last night's discussion? Because I really think it was going places before we got cut off."

He sensed rather than saw her eye roll.

"Well, now we both know what _you_ want, don't we?" One of her hands had wound its way to his hair and he smirked against her skin, feeling victorious. He shifted again and she gasped.

"Like we don't want the same thing?"

"God, Tony," she muttered.

Said man snickered and pulled his head back just a bit. "Exactly." He winced when he noticed the way her eyes had narrowed just a bit. "Er, still mad?"

The glare only intensified.

"The fact that you have to ask makes me wonder if you really want to know the answer."

He nodded in response, the hand that wasn't braced against her side snaking out from beneath his pillow to cup the side of her face. Tony waited until he'd inched his just a bit closer to her's before he spoke again.

"All right, still mad. But..." He breathed against her already parted lips and she stilled. "I think I can fix that."

He'd had been about to kiss her when her leg bent and her knee bumped against his ribcage. Rather than continue with the remnants of last night's 'conversation' and get his damned homework turned in already, the man instead wheezed and lost his balance, practically collapsed on top of Pepper.

"Tony!" She breathed, not having been prepared for the sudden excess of weight on her chest. He rolled off of her with a grunt, one arm still splayed haphazardly (and somewhat possessively) across her waist. "I'm sorry! I didn't—"

Iron Man snorted in response, pulling her a bit closer, though he was wary of her bony knees (yeah, ow) and hoping that she didn't end up hitting him again. Worry was tugging at her brow and he could tell that she was still quite peeved over what had occurred out in the living room with the phone and the others, but he was almost grateful for the fact that her attention was currently elsewhere. He let a few heartbeats pass between them, her hands reaching out for him again and pausing just before she could touch him when he finally took it upon himself to break the silence.

"I'm never going to get to turn my homework in, am I?"

Pepper's only response was to laugh, fingers extending to brush against the sides of his face.

"It really hasn't been your night, has it?" She closed her eyes with the amused shake of her head and Tony frowned briefly at the abrupt thought that he had yet to tell her about the groupies that Steve had assumed he'd been flirting with. He could just tell her about them later. She'd understand. Right?

"It hasn't been my _week,_" he grumbled, pressing his nose to her shoulder. She only laughed a bit harder. Sure, she was still mad, but damn it Tony.

"I'll say. Maybe we should make up for that,"

He hummed at her not-so subtle come-on (he was starting to rub off on her more so now that they were a couple; not that he particularly minded...), pressing his lips to her freckles, her free arm winding around his shoulders to trace mindless patterns into his upper back. Pepper hadn't noticed that JARVIS has wordlessly dimmed the light again until Tony shifted just enough to reveal his miniaturized arc reactor, bathing the small space between them in a gentle blue glow. She'd been about to unconsciously reach toward it when the man she held gave a soft mumble as he began to doze off, his arm tightening around her waist.

Pepper smiled softly at the murmured _love you _against her skin before reaching beside her to tug on the blanket that she wrapped around them both.

She was just beginning to nod off herself when Tony spoke again and she had to laugh.

"So what kind of flowers are you having at my funeral?"


	7. Chapter Seven

**A/N:** I need to start naming these chapters or something.  
Guys I'm just making this up as I go along. But hopefully the last chapter wasn't too painful, right?  
Let's make up for that with hints of Clint/Natasha and Pepperony and humour. :|  
/and feel free to check out of the poll on my profile and cast a vote on which Avenger you'd like to see more of in this story. (:

PS—timeline. Tony's only been Iron Man for about a year and x amount of months in this story. I'd include _Iron Man 3_ in this somehow, but given that it's not coming out for a year, that's probably not going to work. Therefore, this takes place roughly 3-4 months after the events of _Iron Man 2_, working on the development of the non-platonic Tony Stark/Pepper Potts relationship. Just so you know.

But also! _FishyIcon_ and I finally finished a collaboration that we've been working on for the past three weeks. We'd be rather honoured if you'd be so kind as to take a look and give us your thoughts. She's bloody amazing. :) _In too Deep, Out of Time: Part 1 & 2_! Take a look! :D

And hrnk. Feels.

* * *

_Strawberries & Shawarma_  
—Chapter Seven:

"I think we need to time-out."  
—_Agent Phil Coulson  
_

* * *

Clint had gone to bed at nine-thirty and was still lying awake at one in the morning, staring at the ceiling with nothing but his mind and broken images of such terrible things to break the monotony.

For the third time in the past five minutes he twisted onto his side—his back didn't overly appreciate the maneuver—in an attempt to find a more comfortable sleeping position and swiftly punched his pillow as hard as he damn well could. In his humble opinion, the thing was too fluffy and soft and squishy and cuddly and _nice_. The whole tower was too nice, really. Too clean. It wasn't that Clint was a slob and couldn't stand the too pristine nature, but rather that he preferred some dirt and grit—something to make it feel more lived-in or homely or more realistic. He didn't mind the cleanliness too much, but its pure stark nature (oh ha ha, he just got that) was really throwing him off.

But mission upon mission and dealing with not exactly top quality pillows taught him not to take things for granted.

. . .Now the blanket was too warm.

"This is just cruel," he muttered, kicking off the top layer and ignoring the nag from the muscles he hadn't stretched out properly. "And you shut up."

Elbowing the pillow again, Barton stuffed it underneath his head and instead glowered at the wall to study the way the light reflected off of it. He'd never admit it outright if he could help it, but the idea of total darkness hadn't been overly appealing for the past few days and something about having the lights left on, dimmed as they were, made him feel a bit more secure about everything.

It took him a few moments to remind himself that Loki was realms away off on Asgard (but if he was then how the hell had Thor managed to make it back to 'Midgard' then. . .? And what the hell was 'Midgard,' anyway? Was that some derogatory Asgardian slang that Clint didn't understand just yet? He probably knew the answer, he was just too tired to think of it.) before his body lost some of its tension.

He let out a sigh that sounded more like a grunt and folded his arms beneath the pillow that he was sure was full of more feathers than he cared to count.

"They're filled with baby birds, you know."

If the sound of her voice startled him in any way, he didn't let it show aside from the expletive muttered under his breath.

"I knew it." Barton let that linger for a moment before realizing that she wasn't about to leave anytime soon, twisting around again to take in the sight of the woman perched at his bedroom door with her arms folded across her chest as if debating whether or not it was safe to enter. His only response was to incline his head just so.

The door slid closed behind her gently before Natasha told him to scoot over because Thor was in the room next to hers snoring too loudly. She situated herself carefully as to not disrupt his nest of blankets and pillows too much and he settled himself on the other side of the bed rather than the middle in order to give her more room, offering her some of the covers as he did so.

"That's nothing," he replied as she leaned against the headboard. "There were some weird noises coming from the direction of Stark's room, but I didn't have the heart or stomach to go check and see if he was still alive."

Natasha rolled her eyes and adjusted one of the pillows stuffed with 'baby birds.' "I'm sure Pepper's got that covered."

"I guess we'll find out in the morning, won't we?" Clint scratched the bridge of his nose with a smirk. "It sounded really pained though. Like that donkey I heard being strangled last night, but more like it was getting its ass kicked."

"Oh ha ha," his comrade muttered in reply, shifting amongst the covers again. Barton shrugged as much as cared to and burrowed himself into the sheets again. He rolled onto his other side to consider the stitching going across the edge when he felt Natasha's eyes on him. Trying to ignore her only resulted in a rather audible yawn and a mentally muttered curse on his part.

The gentle rustle of fabric that was the woman settling a blanket over herself was just enough to get him to roll over again (and have his body call him a moron, because it wasn't really a fan of rolling over broken glass and then sheets. Never mind picking up rubble or the fact that he was a very physically active man to begin with.) and attempt to level his gaze with hers.

"I'm lethargic."

"Drowsy?"

"Exhausted,"

"Tired?"

"As all hell,"

"Narcoleptic?"

". . .What?"

Natasha chuckled in her own way, smile tugging at the grin that Clint could hardly make out in the dimmed lights of the guest room he'd taken up residence in. He'd wanted to ask her what their future sleeping arrangements were going to be—did they plan on staying at Stark Tower for a while and if so he needed a useful parameter of time—and just when they planned on returning to the Helicarrier before being shipped off to wherever, but he was more concerned with the fact that Tasha was saying that he had a sleep disorder and that he'd managed to scoot closer to her with each exchange. And she'd done the same.

It wasn't like he hadn't shared a bed with her before, but with everything going on. . .What with the whole thing with Loki and cognitive recalibration (his head still friggin' _hurt_) not to mention Thor's off-color remark about their relationship. . .Well. Clint just chocked it up to the fact that he hadn't slept in almost three days.

"Quit mocking me," he muttered after a beat, shoving his head into a pillow and glaring at her. She just shook her head in bemusement.

"Get some sleep, Clint," she said. Said man was about to make some remark about how he was trying to but she was interrupting his efforts when he just yawned again.

The two sat in silence for a few minutes but the woman knew better than to assume that he'd actually fallen asleep.

"They don't prepare you for it, y'know," Clint finally said, speaking more into the bedding than to Natasha. "I don't think anything can, really. To have someone reach into your brain and pull you out, and all you can do is just sit back and _watch_ as they pick it apart." Hawkeye didn't even wait for her to say anything and just kept on talking. "I think. . .I think there were times when I _knew_ what I was doing. Like I knew what I was doing and I couldn't do anything to stop it. Or maybe I just wasn't trying hard enough."

_Do you know what it's like to be unmade?_

"Tasha, I was _there_. I _saw_ what I was doing and I did _nothing_."

_You know that I do._

"Tasha, Phil's dead because I didn't—"

"Don't do that to yourself," Natasha cut in, much like she had back on the Helicarrier after nearly bashing Clint's head in in order return him to his pre-Loki's mental takeover state of mind. The eyes that had glazed over while launching into his brief tirade abruptly snapped from the headboard to her and she watched as something akin to anger flashed through them. So now he was just exhausted and irritable.

"Don't do want? Berate myself for not fighting harder? For not trying to actually take on Loki before he decided to play puppeteer?" His tone was clipped and his face nearly impassive, but she saw the cracks around his eyes. It wasn't too long before Clint lost his steam and slumped back into the mattress again, the bags under his eyes becoming more pronounced as he turned his gaze away from the Black Widow. "I just want to sleep and not have to see it all over again."

His voice sounded weak and he hated himself for it.

In that moment and for all intents and purposes, neither of them were hard-nosed S.H.I.E.L.D. agents: they were just a man and a woman with a great deal of baggage and ledgers gushing red.

"You're fine, you're safe," Natasha murmured in a quiet chant, shifting just a bit and allowing for the man to get himself comfortable as he closed his heavy eyelids. "You're fine, you're safe."

Clint muttered something about how she didn't have to do that and take pity on him, but part of him appreciated the gesture all the same.

Natasha would awake hours later to find Barton completely out with his arm draped absently across her and she would have to tell herself not to think too much of it.

The moment was ruined a bit when he snored into her ear.

* * *

Tony Stark, on the other hand, hadn't gotten too much sleep himself for numerous reasons. Number one being the redhead about to punch him in the ribs (which were reason number two because they still hurt. Reason number three had something to do with debating the merits of spray cheese.).

"You're unbelievable," Pepper muttered, about to roll away from him when the arm looped around her waist suddenly tightened and brought her right on back.

"So I've heard," he replied, burying his nose into her hair with a grin, using the fact that her arm was stuck between her side and his chest to his advantage (she couldn't hit him that way). She scoffed and was about to mutter something else when he thought it in his best interest to try to defend himself. "'_Tony Stark is an unbelievable moron,'_ The headline is everywhere. I thought it was part of your job to keep up with the press along with spraying me with a water bottle every time I pee on the carpet and being an amazing—"

"Okay, that one I can agree with."

Tony frowned and rolled her to face him. "Which one? The one about squirting me every time I take a leak or being a complete fox? Because as much as I adamantly support the latter, I think it might be too egotistical and I thought we'd already agreed on my ego being the delicate flower that you're trying to kill. I can't butcher yours too, Pep."

She turned just in time for him to catch her eye roll. "I'd agree with the headline about you being a moron—"

"You wound me."

"—but as for everything else. . ." Pepper trailed off and he quirked a 'brow. "Well."

"I didn't pee on the floor today," he chimed, smirk growing as he waited for her to address his third point.

"Good boy," she said instead, reaching over with her free hand to pat his head affectionately and he nuzzled the side of her neck in response.

"So. . .do I get a treat or something. . .?" Tony drawled into her skin, pulling back just enough to take in the look on her face. He was almost as puzzled as he was amused.

"I think you already got your _treat,_ Stark," the woman shot back, shifting in his arms and fixing him with a certain _look_. He had the nerve to look insulted, extracting one hand to cast its back against his forehead theatrically.

"You threatened to withhold sex!" He shot back. "I couldn't let that happen and had to convince you otherwise! Come on."

"I! You what!" Pepper sputtered. She yanked out the arm that had formerly been trapped between them in order to fold it with her other one. There was no mistaking the blush across her face though, even in the darkness.

He chuckled and she was faintly fond of the way the skin around his eyes crinkled as he did so. "I'd like to think I made a rather convincing argument."

"Oh, really?" she replied hotly, giving him a look that made him want to cringe. "So that was just you trying to convince me not to withhold sex?"

"Not exactly. . ." Tony trailed off, his mind going off in search of a decent line of defense. "I mean. . .Well. You pretty much threatened to right after you hung up on your dad. So."

Pepper rolled her eyes, not exactly sold on the idea.

"So, essentially, you mean to tell me that you woke up just for sex? Is that it?"

"No!" He almost shouted, eyes widening as he shifted, propping himself up on his elbow and being sure to look her in the eye. "I mean, yeah I woke up after I fell asleep for a bit, but that was only because I heard you talking to me in my sleep because you hadn't fallen asleep yet, and then I asked you what we were talking about and then we started making out and discussing homework and one thing led to another and then. . ."

She frowned with the shake of her head. "Do you always have to be so crude?"

Tony gave a theatrical sigh, letting his head drop so that his hair brushed her forehead.

"Fine, we lavished one another with a series of affectionate kisses until suddenly there spurred a fire—" He was promptly cut off by the hand slapped across his mouth and his pursed his lips against her palm.

"Oh god, somehow I think that's much worse." She pulled a face and then pulled her fingers away. "Stop licking my hand."

Tony smirked as Pepper wiped her hand on his bare pectoral with an amused grimace. It was something he knew that she didn't like, but it was her fault in the end, wasn't it? She was the one to put her hand on his mouth anyway. He wouldn't have been able to resist the impulse and she was almost asking for it. Rather than making some snippy comeback, the woman simply rolled her eyes at him, leaning up to give him a quick peck before turning onto her side for the night.

"Get some sleep, Tony,"

His only response was a slight grunt before he settled himself back onto his own pillow, one arm folded beneath his head and the other lazily stretched across the top of Pepper's, letting her hair tickle his forearm. Tony tugged the comforter upwards a bit to mute the glow of the arc reactor and waited for the sound of even breathing to indicate that she'd fallen asleep.

After a few heartbeats to accompany the steady hum of his chest he began plotting out the new modifications and improvements to the suit when he caught sight of the way one of the muscles in Pepper's back tensed when she shifted. On instinct, his body almost instantly turned toward hers, the arm that had been under his head unwinding and reaching toward her, pausing just before he could touch her side, waiting.

"I've been thinking. . ." she began, trailing off as she shifted her gaze from the wall to the ceiling.

Tony's mind immediately assumed the worst-case scenario.

"Are you having second thoughts about. . .us?" His brow furrowed as his once tired brain started churning a mile-a-minute as he assessed the situation and tried to figure out at just what point everything had gone wrong while her widened eyes mirrored his. Things had been a bit rocky and unstable, sure, but he'd thought that they'd known each other long enough to get passed that and enjoy whatever it was that they had now.

"What? Tony, no!"

He'd screwed up majorly in the past, yes he knew that, what with the parade of one-night stands and the parties and the whole I-am-Iron-Man-reveal and the thing with Stane and the thing with Vanko and his could-have-been-last birthday party that he didn't fully remember and this whole Avengers Initiative thing and then the 'homework' and the nuke and then the phone call from her—

"Pepper, what exactly did you father say to you?" Stark's tone and eyes hadn't darkened, exactly, but they'd adopted an edge to them that more or less demanded an answer and wouldn't let this go without one.

She took her time in responding, however, letting her gaze wander slowly through their dark room before finally returning to meet his.

"Am I just another notch in your bedpost, Tony?"

His jaw did go slack at that, admittedly. Here he'd been thinking that the whole that-was-my-_father_-on-the-phone-how-could-you-say-that and you-flew-a-_nuke_-into-space-and-I-missed-your-call thing was about to bite him in the ass tenfold and leave him single and forever alone and instead Pepper was worried that she was just another one of his flings. (Oh god, is _that_ what Papa Potts had said to her? In that case, Tony wanted to have a few words with him. Who the hell did he think he was saying things like that. Never mind how he was kinda justified in thinking so.)

In retrospect it was extremely rude and callous, but Tony couldn't help the laugh that escaped him.

Pepper's face flushed and her jaw clenched indignantly at his reaction and she made to jerk away and clamber out of their bed in search of her clothing when Tony decided it was high time to shut up. Again, he simply looped an arm around her and dragged her back to him, ducking his face to hers.

"No." Her tone was short and forceful. "You don't get to do that right after you laugh at something like—"

"Virginia," he breathed, sounding almost exasperated. She stilled at the sound of her formal name, as Tony never used it unless something serious was going down. "I probably shouldn't have laughed, I'm sorry."

The apology only served to throw her for another loop and he moved away enough to cover her with the blanket again.

"But seriously? You actually have to _ask_ that?" He shook his head and the tip of his nose brushed against hers. "Pepper, I thought you knew better."

Her brow twitched. "Apparently not."

"We've been part of each others' lives for what. . .ten plus years? And then we've been. . ._this_ for maybe three months?" Tony opened his eyes, the arm that had been encircling her waist moving to the side of her head to join his other so that he could prop himself up on his forearms above her. "Do you really think that after all that time I'm really going to try to screw all of that up and say that none of it means anything? Pep, come on."

He leaned forward just enough to let his forehead contact hers and she closed her eyes.

"I told you that I loved you and I'm saying it again because it's true and I love you more than I understand and can comprehend and just. . ." Tony sighed, not overly a fan of expressing emotions saved for those old sappy movies Capsicle was probably a fan of. "Stop making me be all sappy and deep. It's not healthy."

Figuring he ought to end his reasoning on a good note, he was happy to find that she was just about as eager to kiss him back as he was her. It wasn't exactly the most eloquent speech in the world, but for Pepper Potts it had served its purpose. Besides, it was more than obvious that Tony Stark was better at showing 'love' than having to verbally express it, but having him say those three little worlds just went to show how much he had grown and matured over the past year.

Then again, those three words and the past year. . .

"Last night. . .wasn't the first time you said me you loved me," Pepper quietly murmured after he'd successfully kissed her enough to get his point across. His tongue darted out to his lips as he frowned, wracking his brain in attempt to remember any other time that he might have said it and came up empty.

"Nah, I'm pretty sure I'd remember something like that."

His brow furrowed when she cringed, clearly regretting having even brought the subject up.

"At your last birthday," she said, diverting her gaze to the facial hair at his chin. "You were drunk and probably don't remember it but, ah. . ."

_But I_ _sure do_ was the only thing missing out of that statement. Tony's lips puckered and he nodded. Foggy as the memory was, that was something he _did_ recall, if only vaguely. Most of that night had been a blur in all honesty, but he could pick out images such as Goldstein DJ-ing at the bar, someone throwing a watermelon into the air and the Gallagher, Rhodey kicking his ass and in the middle of it just the _look_ on Pepper's face—oh god, when she saw him and Natasha. . .—and then telling her, drunk as he was, that he loved her.

Assuming that she'd struck a nerve, Pepper quickly apologized, her cheeks adopting a nice dusting of pink and Tony only shook his head with a small smile.

"Well," he finally consented before laying back down again while Pepper instinctively folded back into his side (minding the bruise there) as his arm wound around her again. "I guess if I said in then, then I sure as hell mean it now."

She let out a breathy 'ha' at that, her hand trailing across the slight crack in the arc reactor that Tony had said was no big deal and he'd take care of in the morning if she'd stop bugging him about it.

"I'm not the kind of person that says that sort of stuff so easily, Pep, you know that." Not for the first time, he tightened his grip on her. "And I'm sorry that it took me about a decade to finally say it, but I do mean it, Miss Potts. I'm sure you get that by now, right? . . .Right? Uh, Pepper?"

Frowning to himself, Tony rose his head and twisted slightly in order to look at the woman he as addressing. Her fingers curled on top of his built-in nightlight to cast shadow puppets across the ceiling as the redhead shifted gently, pressing her face into the junction between his neck and shoulder and her crown against his jaw.

Rather than shake her awake and make sure that he'd gotten his point across, Tony just smiled and settled back, grinning to himself in the dark as Pepper slept curled against his side. He could feel her own smile against his skin when he told her that he loved her again just to drive the stake home—and maybe it was just wistful thinking on his part, but Tony was sure she smirked at what he said next before dozing off as well.

"All right, so we'll talk about looking into extra credit some other time then."


	8. Chapter Eight

**A/N: **New layout. What is this. /not sure if real or being trolled.

Thank you all so much. I really mean it. Thank you. :')

I dunno how I feel about the last two chapters in all honesty; feel like maybe they could've gone better.  
That all aside what are YOU, the reader, looking for in this story? Pepperony, whump, Avengers-group-bonding, bacon? Lemme know! As if it wasn't obvious, some of what I've written thus far has been hit-and-miss, just things off the top of my head. XD  
Also! Who is your favorite Avenger and which scene from the movie is your favorite? ;D

BUT BACK TO THE HUMOR. Because we've had enough feels. And at two in the morning some of these jokes just sound funny. To me, at least.

OH AND THIS CHAPTER IS [I think] WEIRD BECAUSE REASONS. Because Fishy has finally posted the first chapter to her multi-chapter Captain America/Avengers fic after a lot of time and effort and you need to go read it now. Please seriously you won't regret this. GO READ _Chaos Clock_ NOW. Please.

And she's an amazing person and beta, even if I sometimes wait until after I've posted a chapter to send it to her. :) /too impatient.

Not too much really happens in this chapter. :/ But I am looking forward to the next one! :D

* * *

_Strawberries & Shawarma_  
—Chapter Eight:

"Not a great plan."  
—_Tony Stark_

* * *

Tony Stark was in the kitchen. As if that wasn't already bad enough, Tony Stark was in the kitchen trying to cook.

Steve watched him bop around a hot stove poking at the eggs sizzling away in a pan with equal parts apprehension and dread. He hardly withheld the urge to wince when Stark shoved his spatula beneath the yokes with an ungodly scraping sound before he promptly flipped them to expose their browning underbellies. Now Steve might not have possessed a great deal of finesse himself when it came to the kitchen, but this was just. . .sad.

Tony had already managed to burn half a dozen eggs and knock most of the other half on the floor, singe off some of Bruce's arm-hair, almost squash the banana Natasha had been peeling into her face and break three different coffee mugs, to which Thor had responded with a well-if-he's-allowed-to-then-why-can't-I face.

Steve just sat back and kept out of the splash zone.

They'd all paused and waited for the Hulk to rip out of Bruce's clean shirt and start stomping around the kitchen in search of a certain god to bash into the floor, but instead he'd just glanced at the new rather obvious bald spot on his arm before turning back to the fruit he'd been slicing with a hiss.

Sitting back and scrutinizing the unholy concoction that Stark was curiously jabbing at while he tried to figure out what in the world it was supposed to be, Steve was amused when Natasha finally asked the question that the rest of the audience had been dying to.

"What the hell is that?"

Tony turned and rewarded her with the slight pucker of his brow before he went back to his business. "Breakfast."

Thor promptly decided that his third cup of coffee was more than enough and Bruce was quite content with his fruit bowl. Natasha simply glanced from her banana to the mess in the frying pan and Steve figured he had another twenty minutes before his stomach pitched a fit.

None of them had the heart nor the stomach to ask for Tony to divulge any information past that and Thor eyed the small dish of spices that the man at the stove had put together before deciding that it was all in their best interests if it suddenly went missing. He tucked in under the counter under Romanoff's careful nod and left none the wiser, though the latter noted what looked to be cinnamon and oregano mixed with one another and grimaced at the thought of what else Tony had snuck into the mixture. No wonder why he wasn't allowed in the kitchen.

They were all exchanging another look behind his back and trying to figure out how to proceed before Stark burnt down the Tower with them in it when a sixth voice suddenly chimed from the doorway, and Bruce turned his anxious look from the pan to find Pepper approaching them, still dressed in her (slightly rumpled, thanks to Tony) pajamas.

"What's that smell?" Her eyebrows pulled together as she came to halt at the counter, glancing between four of her house guests before her gaze finally settled on her boyfriend attempting to cook and she looked more unsettled than shocked. "Oh. . .No."

Steve was just about to tell her to run and save herself when Tony cut him off, turning away from the stove top with a light scowl.

"Breakfast," he repeated as if confused as to why no one seemed to understand what he was doing. It was early morning, they were in the kitchen and he was preparing food. What else could he have been doing? Thor drained the rest of his coffee while Pepper quirked a thin eyebrow.

"I thought I said you weren't allowed in the kitchen."

"Unsupervised," he shot back with a shrug. "I have supervision. It's all good."

Pepper's mouth pulled into a thin line and she resigned herself to taking a seat beside Steve at the breakfast counter in roughly the same spot she had the day before. They exchanged a quick greeting before watching as Tony delicately scooped his concoction onto a plate and Bruce tried not to look too repulsed. He felt a short spurt of pity when the man settled the plate and a bundle of silverware before Pepper, clearly expecting her to eat it. Her brow furrowed as she gave it a short study before looking up at the man she'd spent the last decade of her life with in an _oh god, do I _have_ to? _manner.

"What is it?" she asked, picking up the fork he'd set beside her plate to poke at it. It let out quiet hiss as one of the bubbles in the egg popped.

"An omelet," Tony supplied as if surprised that she'd even had to ask. The last time she'd seen one of his omelets (and it hadn't even looked like an omelet, really) had been on the jet back from Monaco and it had looked worse for wear, what with how mushy and just. . ._eh_ it had been.

Pepper's eyes narrowed just slightly.

"Are you dying?"

He blinked and frowned, folding his arms over his stomach. "What?"

"Are you dying? Palladium in your chest?"

Oh. "No."

"Did you kill someone?" At the inquiry Natasha chewed her fruit in bemusement. Steve just frowned and scooted away from Pepper just a bit.

"No."

There was a pause and she gnawed at her lip for a moment. "Are you being sued?"

"Last time I checked, no."

"What did you do?"

With a loud breath Tony threw his arms up in exasperation, obviously bothered by the unique round of Twenty Questions and just wishing Pepper could have some faith in him when it came to his work in the kitchen. He'd made macaroni & cheese just fine that one time! Maybe he'd almost burned his hand on the boiling water, but other than that it had come out fine! Even if he'd willingly been distracted by the redhead and let the water boil over. Still!

"Can't a guy just make his girlfriend breakfast without some ulterior motive?" he exclaimed, making this the first time a majority of his team had heard him give Pepper such a title.

"No," both Pepper and Natasha chimed, and he scowled at the latter. It was Potts that continued speaking, however. "Back at the Expo you said you were going to make me an omelet and tell me you were dying. What's your aliment this time?"

"Other than a redhead and her angry dad, I'd say I'm actually just peachy. And again with the Expo!" Stark leaned back against the counter and crossed his arms again, glancing between her and the sad looking omelet and otherwise ignoring the others. "Consider this Part Two of my apology for that."

Judging from Clint's comments about the 'donkey' and other noises he'd been hearing last night during his state of insomnia, Natasha had a fairly good idea of what Part One of Stark's Apology had been. Thor and Steve looked fairly confused, but Bruce also wasn't about to start educating them just then.

Pepper bit the inside of her cheek and lowered her eyes to her plate and she swallowed before finally using her fork to cut off a small piece, spearing it and giving it a careful study. Glancing up to Tony again the woman grimaced before putting it in her mouth at his not so subtle nudging. He couldn't help the grin as she began chewing, and the other men in the room offered her their condolences. After a beat Pepper nodded as if to say _not bad_ and Tony chuckled, not noticing the way she bunched her napkin up in her hand.

"See? Not too bad, huh?"

In response she only gave another slight nod before pointing to the stove beside him and he whirled around and cursed when he found that it was still on.

When he wasn't looking, Pepper delicately spat the bit of omelet out into her napkin before hiding it in her lap.

She offered Bruce a quiet 'thank you' as he offered her a slice of melon while Tony was busy warring with the stove and trying not to burn himself. He turned back around just in time to find Steve nudging the pathetic excuse for an omelet away from Pepper and frowned.

"Oh come on, it can't be _that_ bad."

Stark took one bite and got a mouthful of mushy grape tomato and eggshell.

He was quickly relieved of cooking duties for an undisclosed period of time. He didn't complain.

* * *

"I'll learn to cook someday," Tony said half an hour later, happy and content with his stomach full of fruit and Pepper curled up on his lap. She closed her eyes and laughed, temple pressed into his neck as he smirked.

After the brief run-in with the mess he'd tried to feed his girlfriend, Stark had quickly gone about destroying the evidence, about to throw out the plate itself before Bruce had made a quip about ruining the good China and settling his fruit bowl between them all. (Tony had subtly checked for any signs of strawberries, but had relaxed upon seeing a lack thereof.) As a result, they'd had a grand old time lobbing grapes at Thor's grinning mouth and Bruce had questioned Clint's whereabouts, learning from Natasha that he was still passed out in bed. Tony had earned an elbow to the ribs for his quip on _of course _she_ would know._

Of course, things had taken a slight detour when Steve asked if Pepper had made any progress with her father and the woman had just sighed and toyed with her piece of cantaloupe.

"I. . .haven't spoken to him since last night, but I'm sure he's had to have calmed down some by now." Rogers nodded as she had shot Stark a look, but he hadn't been paying attention at that point, too focused on annoying Black Widow with comments about Hawkeye. "At least Tony didn't tell him I was pregnant or something."

That, of course, Tony had heard and immediately picked up on. If only the last bit. "You're pregnant?"

Thor had paused in consuming his fourth cup o' joe and Pepper simply blinked back in near-shock. "What?"

"You're pregnant?" Stark asked again, and Bruce had noted the way the quiet way the industrialist's eyes had lighten up at the notion.

Natasha shifted her stance as Pepper flushed. "Do I look pregnant?"

"Uh. . ." Tony just about stuttered, not knowing what to say and not wanting to say something that would shatter the already thin ice he was stomping across. "No?"

And why couldn't he have left at that?

"I mean, you don't, but if you. . .wanted to. . .I mean, if you were you could. . .because if you were. . .I'm not saying that there's anything wrong with not looking like you are—you don't, but if you did. . .if you did look. . .if you were, uh, pregnant. . ."

Agent Romanoff knew all kinds of torture—this had to be one of the Top Ten.

"Please stop talking," Pepper finally cut in before Tony did any more damage to his thought process, both looking beyond uncomfortable. The man was suddenly enthralled with showing Bruce something on the far wall of the room.

". . .and then maybe someday we might, if we think the timing's right." The sound of Pepper's voice suddenly snapped him back to the present and he tore his gaze away from their panoramic view of New York City to meet hers.

"Hmm," he hummed in reply, pressing his lips to her forehead and she closed her eyes at the touch, partly relieved that he'd clearly been too out of it to have listened to her breach the topic of pregnancy again. He shifted his hold on her and she pressed her palm to the arc reactor implanted in his chest.

"I thought you were going to take care of that," Pepper said, poking at the slight crack that had resulted from his intergalactic space travels and brush with death.

"I'm a bit preoccupied right now," Tony responded, trailing his hand up from where it had been resting at her hip to cup her chin. He lowered his own just enough to let his precisely trimmed goatee brush against her slightly parted lips and he felt a bit of smug satisfaction at the way her breathing hitched every time. "Now hush, Phoebe Buffay has an important message about Smelly Cat for the world."

A blush crept up the back of Pepper's neck as he pulled back with a chuckle and she smacked him playfully before settling back into his chest and circle of his arms. They both turned their attention back to the window that had morphed into a television screen even as their minds wandered elsewhere.

It had become a tradition of theirs—among various other rituals—, watching old _Friends_ reruns.

Tony would chuckle at Joey's antics, Pepper would comment on how he could learn a thing or two from Ross and they would both sit back and question what Chandler Bing's job was. Pepper found it amusing, really, how they'd just started watching the show together for no reason during its last season and Tony had decided that they were to watch reruns as a means of understanding what had happened during the last nine. The thought hadn't occurred to Potts at the time, but now that she thought about it she just assumed it had been one of his attempts to establish a relationship between them.

And so _Friends_ Time had become Bonding Time.

And Tony had pulled the 'How _you_ doin'?' line more than once with little success.

"We should build a robot dinosaur," Tony said after a few minutes of dialogue and laughter from an unseen audience.

Pepper chuckled. "And why are you building a robot dinosaur?"

"Because I want to name him ROSS."

"ROSS?"

"Really Obnoxious Steel Stegosaurus. ROSS," Tony grinned, his gaze flickering from the paleontologist mooning over Rachel to the woman seated on his crossed legs. "He can be JARVIS' new friend. Or pet. Pet makes more sense."

Pepper couldn't help the second giggle that escaped her. "What do you say to that, JARVIS?"

"I would look forward to nothing more," the AI deadpanned after a moment's hesitation. Stark took a moment to glower at the ceiling.

"Are you getting an attitude with me, Jeeves? I dunno if I like that."

"With you, sir? Never."

Tony frowned again and glanced back down to Pepper with a pout as the sitcom went to a commercial break.

"JARVIS is getting feisty again," he whined. Said AI would have offered some sort of witty comeback had it not been for the obvious change in mood.

"Is he?" Pepper responded, to which her boyfriend hummed. "Aren't you going to test out your new muting tactic then?"

A grin split across Tony's face at her comment, suddenly understanding what she was getting at. He was about to follow through with his 'test' when she jumped the gun. Not that he minded.

He could hardly help the small sigh that escaped when she pulled away and his free hand drifted to the back of her neck. "Run that by me again?"

"Gladly," Pepper smiled, arm winding around his neck.

They'd gotten about a minute's worth of testing in when Thor and Captain America decided to grace them with their sudden presence. Iron Man let out a rightfully exasperated noise when Pepper shifted to a less compromising position, though Tony maintained that she stay on his lap. If only to prove a point.

Steve was well aware that they'd obviously interrupted something and was about to excuse himself when Thor clapped a hand of each of their hosts' shoulders in greeting. Neither had been remotely prepared and sunk into the couch cushions with a grunt upon impact.

Tony just glared at the intrusion as the other two men then took up residence on the other couches and was about to ask them to leave in a rather rude manner when Pepper shot him a certain look that told him to be nice or else. He complied, but that didn't stop him from rubbing circles into her hip with his thumb and whispering things in her ear.

Steve really wished that he didn't have such great hearing because—good Lord, Stark.

For his sake, at least JARVIS had upped the volume of the makeshift T.V. in an attempt to drown out whatever Tony had muttered that had Pepper blushing. Thor was too busy frowning at the screen and looking dumbfounded to do much else.

She blushed harder when the Prince of Thunder decided to quiz them on the product the last commercial had been promoting.

Pepper had turned beet red, Tony wasn't sure whether to laugh or feel bad and Steve—already having a general idea, given the ad's context—just buried his face in his hands and muttered something about fondue.

"What is this tampon device these Midgardian women appear fond of?"

And then, of course, followed by:

"Would they make a suitable gift to celebrate the anniversary of Jane Foster's birth?"


	9. Chapter Nine

**A/N: **Okay, it's been more than a week since the last update. Sorry 'bout that. xD;**  
**I've been wanting to write some interaction between Pepper and Steve for awhile now. [Even though I completely FAILED because then suddenly I was making stuff up as I went along and man I don't even know. It could have gone better, I think. Eh. xD;]  
Y'all can have yourselves some developing Clint 'n Natasha schtuff before we get to it. :U  
My knowledge about Natasha/Natalia's back story is very limited. But from what I do understand...yeah.

And if you haven't yet, please _please_ check out _Chaos Clock_ by FishyIcon! She's the reasonable Steve to my obnoxious Tony and I don't know who else I'm going to bother for the next three weeks. [SERIOUSLY, STEVE. WHEN YOU GET BACK I'M MAKING YOU FEEL ALL THE FEELS BECAUSE REASONS. AND PEGGY.]

This bit is here because I don't really like leaving notes at the end and so this note is a bit longer than I would have liked.  
—A big chunk of Pepper and Steve's adventure was cut out, or else this woulda been twenty pages long [and even without that, it's LONG]. I mean, it was fun and interesting to write, but...the only person I'm really used to writing Pepper interacting with is Tony. ...I need to get out more. |: It involved an extensive scene in a pizza shop with a little boy named 'Stephen' [mentioned briefly as Captain America's 'biggest and youngest fan'] and a visit to a comic book shop. I don't know, I was thinking of maybe posting that as a one-shot or short story on its own? Or maybe bringing it in here again later? What do you guys think?

So! That all aside, we can move on to chapter nine where I still pretend I know what I'm doing. Don't really know what to think of this one. Looking forward to the next one thought, since it's got part of date night in it, I guess?

* * *

_Strawberries & Shawarma_  
—Chapter Nine:

"At this point I doubt anything would surprise me."  
—_Steve Rogers_

* * *

Natasha had briefly caught a discussion about tampons coming from the men in the other room and decided to save her sanity and go check on Clint. It was just part of her routine, she told herself. She just needed to keep an eye on him because he was still unstable after everything with Loki and it was nothing more than that.

Thor's remark yesterday had been nothing more than one of his half-brained assumptions (alright, perhaps not so half-brained, but damn his observations) and it had meant nothing.

The master assassin was contemplating why she was letting the thought of her relationship with her partner bother her even as she nudged his bedroom door open as quietly as possible so as not to disturb him. There was a moment of relief when she found him still dead to the world, flopped across the bedspread and nestled contentedly in his nest. The faint traces of a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth at the slight huff that came from him as he shifted.

Oh god, she was staring. Was she staring? She was staring. Why was she staring.

It wasn't that she'd never taken a good look at Clint Barton before and hadn't found him attractive, but their relationship had always been on a professional level and nothing more than a few quips. When they'd first been paired together Natasha would admit that she had 'checked him out,' but they'd both had too much baggage for anything else. Besides, she'd been hurt before and it had taken forever before she'd decided to trust him and he her.

One of the great things about Clint—aside from his unrelenting humor—was the fact that he didn't push things. Never once had he forced or tried to coerce her into anything like some people from her past, and for that she was grateful.

There had always been those few passing glances between them that she'd never known how to interpret, however.

Clint had never wanted nor demanded anything from her, aside from maybe another pad of gauze or asking her to just stay awake after a particularly nasty mission (pre-Budapest, maybe) but very little beyond that. In turn, Natasha had demanded nothing back, except maybe for him to shut up and stopping making jokes so she could focus (post-Budapest). Their dynamic had been safe. Comfortable.

But now. . .

But now she stood in his doorway watching him while he slept and attempted to look at him in an entirely new light. It wasn't something she preferred doing, but in the end she was only human and couldn't help it.

Natasha muttered something rather rude in her native tongue and then followed up with a sniff and a direct quote from the first conversation they'd ever had. "Your room smells like oatmeal."

Clint responded by stretching out briefly before flopping back down and muttering something about Tasha and narwhals.

She didn't know how to interpret that either.

* * *

As much as Steve may have liked trying new things, having to mess around with Stark's sound system in order to get it to play some familiar tunes for him was quickly becoming more trouble than it was worth. For the past half-hour he'd been hesitantly and mindlessly jabbing at random buttons, continually thrown off by JARVIS' attempts to aid him as he felt he'd have to learn sometime and doing so on his own was more 'normal' than having a machine do it for him.

There was also the fact that the disembodied voice always caught him off guard, but that went without saying.

He carefully adjusted one of the dials and told JARVIS that he'd try learning on his own some more, but only succeeded in cranking up the volume to blast out complete silence. Steve sighed and leaned back, taking in the dizzying array of dials and buttons situated on the wall panel before him and was vaguely reminded of a war-room—blinking lights, a map splayed out and dotted with various HYDRA locations, destroyed or no.

"If I might make a suggestion here, sir?"

The sound of JARVIS' voice startled Steve for a moment, instinctively tensing before he realized that there was no threat. He chuckled to himself briefly at his reaction before he sighed and took a breath, conceding. All he'd wanted to do is see if he couldn't play some music from his day and age (you're so funny, Stark) for some familiarity in a world that was too modern and futuristic and he'd made no headway in the thirty minutes that he'd been pressing random buttons.

"Uh, sure." Steve paused for a moment, unsure of how exactly to address the AI. ". . .sir?"

He could almost sense the smile in JARVIS' tone, though it wasn't the mocking one that Tony would have given him.

"Perhaps you ought to try to the button marked 'Power?'"

Steve actually made it a point to smack his forehead with his palm.

And then promptly smacked his butt on the floor when the stereo system roared to life, its volume cracked up all the way from when he'd been messing with it.

_"I'M DRIVIN' PAST YOUR HOUSE WHILE YOU SNEAKIN' OUT; I GOT THE CAR DOOR OPENED UP SO YOU CAN JUMP IN ON THE RUN,"_

Steve had his hand clamped over his ears at how loud—since when did they calling screaming 'music?'—it was and how sensitive his ears were. He rolled into a crouch before the system before him, trying to locate the power switch again but also realizing that doing so would mean that he would have to uncover one of his ears. Judging from the amount of cringing he was doing, that didn't seem like something he was looking forward to.

_"YOUR MOM DON'T KNOW THAT YOU WERE MISSIN'; SHE'D BE PISSED IF SHE COULD SEE THE PARTS OF YOU THAT I'VE BEEN KISSIN',"_

Captain America was still kneeling on the ground debating what it would be like to try to tear his eardrums out when Pepper Potts came around the corner, shouting over the din in order to get the man's attention only to be drowned out by the lyrics yelling at them both about. . .well. Catching sight of her out of the corner of his eye, Steve turned and shouted back.

"What?"

A small smirk tugged at Pepper's lips. "Turn it down!"

"What?" He frowned, trying to hear her over the man screaming _"NO, WE'RE NEVER GONNA QUIT, AIN'T NOTHIN' WRONG WITH IT, JUST ACTIN' LIKE WE'RE ANIMALS,"_

"Down!"

"_ANIMALS,_"

". . . what?"

Pepper was downright _laughing_ at this point, having made her way over to him during their shouting match and shifting the stack of papers to her other arm in order to reach for the power button. She was still chuckling when Steve finally pulled his hands away from his head, his ears still ringing. While he got his bearings back the redhead made sure to crank the volume dial back down so that whoever turned the sound system back on wouldn't have their eardrums blown out.

"Huh," she said, adjusting a few other things before turning to face the man on the floor. "Never would have pegged you for a Nickelback fan."

Steve momentarily scowled in confusion and hoisted himself back to his feet. He was blushing a furious pink at this point, a hand rubbing at the back of his neck sheepishly and he regarded the patient, smiling woman. Rather than quiz her on a what a Nickelback was he simply shook his head as she did the same.

"I'm, ah, sorry about the noise, Miss Potts," he said after a beat, arms folding over his broad chest as he ducked his head slightly. "Still just trying to get used to all of. . ." He inclined his head toward the wall behind her and then the rest of the room "This."

Rather than laugh at him like he'd partly expected, Pepper just nodded with a small breath.

"It's different, isn't it? There's just something about having the ceiling greet you by name when you first walk in." Steve inclined his head in a nod at the remark, waiting to see if she'd continue or if he had to think of something else to say. Thankfully for him, she went on to speak some more. "Meeting JARVIS for the first time was interesting experience, I have to say. Second day on the job and the walls were talking to me."

She stepped away for a moment to adjust the papers in her arms before side-stepping her way to the kitchen to set them upon the same counter where Tony had tried to pass off some mush as an omelet. Without much thought to it, Steve followed her and, limited as his social skills with women were, felt that their conversation was not quite over. It was just his turn to say something.

"Meeting your, er, butler for the first time was. . .unique," he conceded. In response, Pepper turned away from one of the contracts she'd been glancing over to the find the man standing a short distance away and smiled.

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to laugh, but. . ." she broke off as she did just that and Steve couldn't help but join in. "Your reaction was quite something; and please, don't worry about the painting. That Iron Man picture wasn't exactly art, no matter what Tony says otherwise."

They exchanged another bout of laughs before Pepper leafed through a second group of papers with a frown and Steve took to standing there awkwardly, unsure of how to proceed. The conversation was over, right? There wasn't really that much else to discuss? He flexed his jaw and took a step back and tried to figure out some other way to kill some time just as the Pepper settled a contract back on the counter, not wanting to have to deal with this A.I.M. corporation from the time being.

"Hey, Captain?" Said man paused mid-step before turning back to the woman, his brow furrowing a bit as he gauged her expression. There wasn't too much to work with, save for the way her eyebrows were pulling together slightly. "Are you doing anything?"

He frowned, about to say that no, no he really wasn't because he was no idea what to do, but instead he said nothing, head titled slightly to the side as he tried to figure out what she was up to.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that!" she immediately said, eyes widening as she realized how she'd sounded. "I just meant, well, I was going to pick up some pizza for lunch and thought I'd ask you to come join me, if you don't mind? I mean Tony and Bruce are off doing science in the lab, Clint's still asleep and I don't know where Thor or Natalie, er, Natasha are." Her cheeks had adopted a slight dusting of pink. "I didn't know if you had any plans and I thought maybe I could show you some of the newer New York while we're at it? Of course, you're free to stay here, if you'd like. No pressure at all."

She took a breath, clearly flustered and Steve's stance wavered for a moment. For a split second part of him had wondered what Stark would have thought of the whole thing, but at the same time he really didn't have anything else to do and it would have been nice to maybe wander the city about and try to familiarize himself with everything without someone making fun of him (see: Stark) or someone else hounding him all day (see: S.H.I.E.L.D.). And if Stark was going to get jealous than that was _his_ problem, not Steve's. No use reading too far into anything.

A few moments passed before a smile crept across his mouth and Steve nodded. "That'd be great, actually. When would you like to leave, Miss Potts?"

She returned the gesture. "Call me Pepper; I was thinking maybe—"

The rest of her sentence was cut off by the sound of a small explosion down in the lab, accompanied by a loud _"God dammit, Hammer Time!"_

"Er, maybe now, Captain?"

Steve didn't put up much of an argument there. And at least they knew where Thor was now, too.

"Sounds like a plan. And it's just Steve, Miss Potts—Pepper,"

The woman smiled again before the two ventured off to find her purse, him waiting in the hallway outside of her bedroom as she did so as a few stories down Bruce and Tony ran around in search of a fire extinguisher. Natasha tensed briefly and Clint just rolled over in his nest of blankets and muttered something about bacon burning.

* * *

After ordering almost half-a-dozen pizzas and having an impromptu meet-and-greet with Captain America's apparent biggest and youngest fan, they'd had almost an hour to kill and as such had taken to wandering around the block as five different pizzas were assembled and prepared for annihilation.

Initially, Steve hadn't been what sure what to expect when it came to being alone with Pepper, but as the time wore on he found that she was quite easy to talk to and that they shared a number of interests—attempting to stay out of the public eye being one of them—along with the fact that she was generally an amicable and friendly person to begin with. And with each passing second he had grown more and more confused as to how a woman like her had ended up with someone like Stark.

He'd even voiced that concern at one point after watching the fifth taxi in three minutes careen around a van, its charge presumably clinging to the backseat for dear life and he'd cringed.

Pepper gave something that sounded like a sigh, folding her arms over her torso as they awaited the right moment to cross the street. The sixth taxi swerved away and they thought it in their best interests to maybe wait just a bit longer.

"I guess that is a pretty good question," she laughed, tilting her head to gauge oncoming traffic before it slowed as the light flashed to red. She continued speaking as they walked, Steve trailing along beside her and his eyes wandering around in troubled awe at their surroundings. "Tony and I have had a rather. . .interesting past, I guess you could say. I've been working for him for another twelve years and we've been. . .together for a few months now." She glanced to the side just to ensure that he was still with her, stepping onto the sidewalk. Her tone was slightly hushed and she was thankful for the lack of a large crowd around them.

Steve nodded, mindlessly following along as he followed her back to the pizza shoppe, plastic bag bouncing against her hip as they walked.

That visit to the comic shop she'd taken him to ("There's something I'd like to show you, if that's alright,") had been an interesting experience in itself.

Admittedly, he'd tuned out briefly and only managed to catch the last bit of what she'd been saying when they finally made it back to the parlor, doing the gentlemanly thing and holding the door for her.

". . .it's been complicated and difficult, but I'd like to think it's worth it."

* * *

Almost three hours after they'd left Stark Tower, Steve and Pepper finally returned to the living quarters they'd all been sharing for the past few days, pizza boxes in arms and still exchanging conversation as they exited the elevator. The two boxes Pepper was carrying—her companion have offered to carry the lot of them, but she'd politely declined—were also stacked with a few more papers that had come in at the receptionist's desk and she halted just long enough to raise a leg and balance their lunch on her knee as she reached out and snatched one of the files that had been slipping, sticking it between her teeth as she adjusted her grip again.

Steve chuckled as they continued their trek to the kitchen, following the sound of the voices they could hear gathered there.

". . .ten bucks says you miss," someone was saying—Tony it sounded like. The two carrying lunch glanced at each other.

"Only ten? You wound me," a man responded, sounding very much so like a Clint who had just gotten a good twelve hours of sleep.

"You're both idiots," Natasha muttered and Steve just frowned.

"A sporting challenge! This should prove amusing!" Pepper wasn't so sure she like how entertained Thor seemed.

"I really don't think this is a good idea," Even Bruce, ever the timid voice of reason, wasn't enough to calm their nerves, the two still exchanging confused, nervous looks with one another.

"Stop trying to kill our fun," Clint shot back and the woman just about bit through the file held between her teeth.

There was a collective shout of shock and fear when Pepper came around the corner.

Steve somehow managed to reach out and yank her backward just in time for something slender and deadly to sail past her nose and she gave a startled yelp in response. As it would turn out, she didn't have to worry about biting a hole in the paper seeing as the arrow shot through it had done the job for her.

For the moment no one moved, all too stunned and staring at the arrow embedded in the wall just a few inches from where Pepper's head had just been, folder dangling from it and apple apathetically leaking juices and meat from where Clint had shot it after Tony had tossed it in the air.

A few loose papers fluttered to the floor as Pepper stood there, pizza and paper clutched to her chest as she waited for her heart to crawl out of her throat and back down into her chest and stop pounding.

Tony sent his stool crashing to the floor, sprinting to where Pepper stood shell-shocked and began asking repeatedly if she was all right and dammit, Barton, "stop trying to kill my girlfriend!" Rather than break into a hysterical round of 'ohmygod,ohmygod,' like the Avengers had been expecting her to, Pepper instead calmly took a breath before making eye contact with Tony, the man gripping her arms as he fired questions at her and checked for any wounds.

"Tony," she said, teeth gritted slightly. Natasha glanced at Bruce, both knowing that nothing good really came from that tone and Thor made sure that Clint was still alive, the latter having frozen and stopped breathing the moment he'd let his arrow fly. He had yet to fully recover from having almost accidentally killed Pepper. "Take this."

"What?" he responded, brow furrowing before he glanced down at what was held in her outstretched arms and promptly took the pizza boxes and papers into his own. "Oh, right. Uh, Pep?"

Steve simply stood back and watched as the woman stepped forward, placing one hand upon the wall and wrapping the other around the arrow shaft, wrenching it out of the panel. She calmly bent down to retrieve the folder that had more or less been shot out of her mouth along with the apple lolling around on the floor with a hole in it.

The six watched in silence as the redhead stood and made her way over to where the others were gathered, Tony and Steve standing off to the side holding onto lunch as the former glanced from them to the new hole in the wall and then back again.

Pepper stopped right before Clint, the archer's arms falling to his sides and bow clattering to the floor as he started breathing out apologies.

"Holy crap, Miss Potts I swear I didn't—" he trailed off at the cool, collected look on her face as she held out his arrow. He took it slowly, regarding her carefully and taking a step back. She took a moment to breathe, her boyfriend and travel companion having made their way over while Bruce tried to remind Barton that it was natural and okay to take in some air. Thor wasn't overly fond of how pale his friend was and Natasha let her eyes flit from her partner to streak of pizza sauce spread along the stomach of Pepper's t-shirt as Tony reached for her again.

"How about, ah, no weapons on the main floor?" Pepper finally said after a moment, capturing their attention as Clint worked through some more inhale-exhale exercises with the humanized Hulk. "No arrows, no shields, no suits, no guns, no hammers?"

Steve let out a puff of air and nodded, setting the three pizza boxes he'd been carrying onto the counter.

"The Lady Potts speaks wisely," Thor admitted, Hawkeye agreeing like there was no tomorrow and still apologizing while Natasha shrugged (who really needed guns to beat up somebody, right?) and Bruce almost half-heartedly joked that he didn't really need any of the above.

Tony was anxiously prodding at Pepper like the nervous little man he suddenly was and the woman sighed, allowing a small smile to tug at her lips.

"All right, now that that's taken care of. . ." she glanced down, having folded her arms over her stomach only to find that they came away streaked with sauce. "If you'll, ah, excuse me, I'm going to go. . .Yeah."

With that, Pepper turned and headed toward the bedroom she shared with Tony in search of clean shirt; he trailed after her, pausing just long enough at the corner to make eye contact with Clint, raising his hand to his face to point at his eyes with his index and middle fingers before turning them toward Hawkeye and then back again in a sort of _I'm watching you _gesture_._

"Is he not at fault as well?" Thor frowned, not having fully understood the action but enough that he had a vague idea of what it meant.

They all just stood there for a bit, completely ignoring the pizza and their hunger and just shuffled around awkwardly. After a few beats, Clint finally clenched his jaw and turned to glower at the four.

"Okay, someone else is telling her about the thousand dollar vase you guys made me shoot."


	10. Chapter Ten

**A/N: **Guys we have ten chapters now. Guys where is this going. Guys where is this story going what's happening in it guys.  
In all honesty, I'm thinking things are going to start wrapping up unless I get a solid plot set. That's not to say that there are only two chapters left, but at the moment I want to say maybe ten more at most? Yeah, I dunno. I have a few ideas in mind.

Glad you enjoyed the Pepper and Steve interaction in the last chapter! Because as much as I ship Pepperony I ship friendships too. And I feel like Steve really needs one at this point. D: [And yes, Clint is having some rather rotten luck. XD]  
...andddd then Tony slips his way back in.  
The original beginning of this chapter was rather moody and somber, but I wanted to lighten the mood a bit before that, so you'll probably see that somewhere within the next few chapters. Just saying. ;)  
This chapter isn't exactly my favorite, buuut...

* * *

_Strawberries & Shawarma_  
—Chapter Ten:

"Not gonna be that subtle."  
—_Pepper Potts_

* * *

If she was perfectly honest with herself, there was really nothing in the world that Virginia Potts despised more than paperwork.

Well, there were numerous other things she really wasn't that fond of, but spending the past three hours sorting through a heaping stack of it had never really been the bane of her existence.

It made it more bearable to say that it was all Tony's fault.

Pepper found herself re-reading the same paragraph for the umpteenth time before she finally chanced a glance up at Natasha seated opposite her on the divan with her own pile of paperwork, each sheet watermarked with the S.H.I.E.L.D. logo as she most likely went through their mission report from the Chitauri invasion or whatever it was that the organization did.

Turning back to her own mountain of papers on the couch beside her, the woman chewed at her lip for a moment as she internally debating with herself over whether or not she could try to confide in the operative that had lied to her about who she was in addition to that whole fiasco that had come with Tony's palladium poisoning. Natalie, er, Natasha, that was, hadn't given her too much to work with and was an exceedingly tough nut to crack. No, Pepper hadn't been expecting hushed giggles and all that giddiness nor had she wanted any of it, but at the same time even idle conversation would have been a nice break from the monotony of sitting there for a few hours going over contracts that should have been signed yesterday.

Thus far, the only conversation between them had established that Black Widow's name was Natasha, not Natalie or Miss Rushman, but that Pepper could call her either 'Nat' or 'Tasha' if it made things any easier.

It kind of didn't, but it was a start.

Clint and Steve had wandered off in search of the recreation room Tony had mentioned while said man and Bruce had retreated back to the lab to do whatever it was that they did. Thor had trailed after them, despite Stark's protests that Bruce didn't need another eyebrow to go missing (thanks to Thor and the small explosion that had occurred in the lab just before Pepper and Steve had gone out to get lunch).

"Does it ever end?" Natasha finally supplied after another ten minutes of absolutely nothing, not wanting to do paperwork herself but knowing full well that the five men they were with probably wouldn't take it upon themselves to do so.

Pepper sighed, "I wish." A smirk tugged at the other woman's lips. "Of course, it would help if Tony even bothered to look at any of these. I swear, sometimes I doubt he even knows how to read—"

"I thought it was rude to talk about other people when they weren't in the room," the man in question cut in as he popped into the common area. He had his hands in his pockets and was grinning like he owned the world (which, he'd been informed by an unamused Miss Potts a few years previous while three sheets to the wind that no matter how adamant he was, no he couldn't buy the world and no, there was no one he could buy it from so Mr. Stark please knock it off because it's almost midnight and I want to go home.). His hair was mused and his face and arms streaked with grease and whatever else he'd been messing with when it came to tinkering with the Iron Man suit.

Five bucks said he was going to try to hug her, grimy arms and all.

He stopped short when he took in the scene before him that was Pepper and Natasha seated calmly in the same room.

Tony was narrowing his eyes just Steve, Clint and Thor strode in after him, the second flashing Pepper a sheepish look and almost holding up his hands in a gesture of peace and to show off his current lack of a weapon, though he was sure to put Captain America between himself and Iron Man. Something flickered across Natasha's features, but she made no move otherwise.

"Wait, I thought you two didn't like each other," Bruce rounded the corner wiping his glasses on a cloth and shot a glance from Tony to the two woman before pocketing said rag and sliding his glasses back onto his nose, legal pad tucked into his armpit. He appeared noticeably cleaner than Stark, though he lacked an eyebrow.

The two woman exchanged a look—one quirking a 'brow just so before they turned back to face the testosterone of the top few levels of Stark Tower.

"We don't," Pepper replied, completely straight-faced as she spoke. "In fact, tonight I'm smothering her with a pillow in her sleep."

Rogers blanched, furrowed his brow and took a few steps away from the two redheads. Bruce just frowned and said nothing as he contemplated that. Thor didn't quite understand the jest that the two women were attempting and Tony had absolutely no friggin' clue how he was supposed to respond to that.

Natasha simply nodded to hold back her smirk, coming off as if baffled that the men were shocked by the exchange. "Egyptian cotton, preferably."

"Of course,"

Clint let his arms drop to his sides and just went with it. Tasha could have an interesting sense of humor when she wanted to and he'd learned that it was best to just let the joke run its course and see what would happen. In the mean time, he was going to raid the fridge for a drink.

Besides, the look on Stark's face? Friggin' priceless.

And his speech? Oh so eloquent. ". . . Right."

In response Pepper let out a long suffering sigh, setting the contract she'd been pawing through to the side and shifting from where she had her feet tucked beneath her. She had a mass of other papers to sort through still and Tony's interruption really wasn't helping anything. If, by any chances, he felt the sudden need to offer her and hand then maybe that would. His hands were also exceedingly dirty though, and returning a bunch of contractions littered with greasy fingerprints probably wouldn't give off the best impression; neither would turning them in two weeks late, but beggars couldn't be choosers.

"What do you want, Tony?"

Natasha lightly snickered at the look of mock-hurt on the man's face while Steve just rolled his eyes and joined Thor in helping Clint look through the fridge. Bruce decided that the exchange currently wasn't anything that required his full attention and as such took a seat at the kitchen bar and starting glancing over his notes for something to occupy his time.

"I'm good, how're you?" Tony puckered his lips for a moment before working on closing the gap between him and his girlfriend. She glanced up at him from beneath her eyebrows. When she said nothing for a few beats he frowned and Natasha closed the folder that Fury had requested from the Avengers. Pepper shook her head and went back to what she'd been doing. ". . .Seriously?"

"What?" her eyebrows pulled together and she looked up again.

The man let out an exasperated sigh. "Hey JARVIS, you got the time?"

Steve braced himself in expectation for the smooth voice that replied. Thor just folded his arms and glanced up at the talking ceiling.

"The time is currently six-seventeen p.m., sir. Would you care for me to recount the weather as well? Or perhaps the ever-growing list of Stark Industry doings that you have been avoiding?"

Tony had forgotten when and where he'd just so happened to add snark in JARVIS' programming, and Clint just snickered while Pepper looked none too thrilled with the last bit.

"He has a point. . ." she muttered to herself under her breath, glaring from the dirty man standing only a short distance away and then back at the file balancing on her knees. Natasha gathered her things and prepared to get up and leave them to it when Stark let out a huff, tromping his way over to the arm of the couch and not so smoothly moved aside a few files that were there before he seated himself upon it. "What do you think you're—"

"Do you have any idea what tonight is, Pepper?" He abruptly cut in while Barton and Rogers prepared to leave them to it and head back to the rec. room, water bottles in hand.

Pepper leveled Tony with a certain look that just about questioned his sanity. "It's Friday night, Tony."

Agent Romanoff let her brow knit as she gave the two across from her a short study and Bruce busied himself with attempting to educate an utterly flabbergasted Thor on the algorithm he'd been putting together.

"And. . .?" Stark pressed on, absently reaching a grimy hand toward Pepper's shoulder (and she would have leaned toward it had it not been in its uncleanliness). She said nothing and Steve turned to Barton as if he had an answer and the latter just shrugged before they left the room.

". . .and?" Pepper responded, more than just a little confused.

Tony slapped a hand over his heart and slumped against the back of the couch in theatrical shock.

"You forgot! You seriously forgot!" he almost chuckled before he remembered that he was supposed to be hurt. Natasha rolled her eyes, gathered her things, exchanged a look with Pepper and a few words with the two bent over a series of numbers she couldn't even begin to understand and left the still raving Tony in her wake.

"Tony what are you talking about?" his co-CEO shot back in exasperation.

"How could Pepper Potts, of all people, possibly forget that it was date night?"

Bruce glanced up from notes during the sudden pause and took in the baffled expression of the woman.

". . .no it isn't," she finally managed quietly, turning a light pink when she realized that it was, in fact. "No, no that's tomorrow night."

The man sitting beside her flashed her a triumphant grin, proud of himself and the victorious feeling that came with remembering something that she didn't, for a change.

And then suddenly it hit her all at once.

". . .Oh god, you're right," she muttered under her breath almost in equal parts dread and shock.

"I'm sorry, what was that? You might have to speak up a bit; I couldn't hear you."

Bruce snickered to himself when Pepper smacked Tony with the folder she'd set aside while Thor which in similar amusement as the man flinched and tried to dodge her attacks, shouting about '_threatened! I feel threatened! This is domestic abuse!_' Stark had managed to snag one of her wrists in mid-swing and she jerked against him which—his balance had wavered a bit while she'd been attacking him—only result in him more or less falling on top of her, pinning her between the couch cushions, papers, and his chest.

Pepper managed a short shriek when they collided and he pressed his grimy cheek to hers, arm automatically winding around her waist to keep her from falling to the floor and acting otherwise oblivious to their company. Thor only stayed because he had a feeling that Pepper Potts might soon require their assistance when it came to dealing with Tony Stark.

"No!" she cried, pressing one hand against his chest and the other to his face in an attempt to push him away. "You're dirty and you smell and get off me! This is why we can't have nice things!"

He just chuckled and let his lower legs kick from where they were draped over the arm of the couch as he moved and smeared grease on her shirt. (And she'd already had to change once today, dammit! As if getting shot at and plastering pizza sauce all over herself hadn't been bad enough! Damn you, Stark!) By gods, he did smell. Like motor oil, sweat, metal and something that was distinctly Tony underneath it all.

They'd successfully crumpled half a dozen financial reports and other contracts that were now speckled with grit and no longer looked all that professional by the time Tony had stopped trying to coat his girlfriend's face and clothing in a thin layer of grease. Bruce and Thor had long since left the room once they'd both realized that Stark posed no imminent threat and Potts could take care of herself. All the same, they did make sure to stay within shouting range if this. . .'altercation' escalated into something else that required their aid.

Having pinned her head down with one arm, he finished drawing a crude mustache above her lip before finally pulling back with a smirk and hovering above her. She glowered back.

"What that really necessary?"

Tony winked and one of his feet twitched like a dog wagging its tail. "Yep."

Pepper regarded him with a certain look and rose an eyebrow. The addition of the mustache drawn on her face courtesy of Tony was just perfect. He couldn't help the chuckle that escaped him at the sight before dipping his head down closer to hers.

"Now, Miss Potts. . ." he let out a puff of breath against her lips. "Aren't you going to get ready for our date?"

Her breathing almost hitched, damn him. "Well, Mr. Stark, it would appear that I have a more pressing matter on my hands at the moment."

There was a mischievous glint in his eyes at the remark and he momentarily disregarded the fact that if this went anywhere there was a ninety-eight-point-nine percent chance that someone was bound to walk in on them. The other one-point-one percent was the chance that the others had probably died because they didn't understand any of the technology they were toying with.

"I think we have some time to kill before our date," Tony paused, letting his mouth linger over hers for a beat. "Then again, you could really use a shower."

Without missing a beat Pepper scoffed and shot back, "Like you're one to talk."

"We could conserve water. . .?" He offered, grinning earnestly and curious as to how the woman would respond.

"Stop talking,"

"That can be arranged."

He was just about to kiss her when the thundering of running feet sounded and Steve barged into the room with Clint hot on his heels, swinging around the corner.

"We heard Pepper shouting and—" And then he took in the position Tony and Pepper were in and paled before turning about five different shades of red. "I didn't know you—sorry I didn't mean to—why was she. . ."

The man was flustered and stuttering and Barton took it upon himself to put him out of his misery, reaching up to slap a hand over Steve's face.

"Virgin child, shield your eyes! This is an unholy sight!"

Pepper buried her face in Tony's chest and, blushing as much as she was, couldn't help the giggle that bubbled against his T-shirt. The man just glared over the back of the couch at their two unwanted guests, mildly amused while Rogers momentarily flailed around as a result of a palm obscuring his vision.

"Can we help you children—"

Tony didn't get the chance to finish the rest of his quip when Pepper seized the opportunity that came with him being distracted and placed her hands against him and shoved. He made a rather interesting sound when he hit the floor and she just sat up, re-adjusted her shirt and smiled pleasantly at Clint and Steve. (The former would later laugh at the impromptu mustache on her face.)

"If you'll excuse me," she said, realigning some of the papers that had been mused before standing. Hawkeye nodded numbly and Steve stopped squirming. With that, she bid them adieu before leaving the room to go shower and get ready for her otherwise spur of the moment date with Tony. Said man was still lying on the floor and groaning about _yeah, don't worry about me guys, I'm fine down here._

Clint waited until Pepper had left the room and wandered off to the bedroom she shared with Tony to extract his hand from Captain America's face and then shoved it toward the man again, this time stabbing the air with a finger in the general direction of Stark.

"See! Donkey noises! I _told_ you!"

* * *

To put it mildly, Tony Stark was not the perfect boyfriend. In fact, to put it bluntly, Tony really. . . well, Tony _sucked_ at being a boyfriend.

He never remembered her birthday (and he really hadn't for the past twelve years or so), had stood her up on more than one occasion, could be too headstrong and let his jealousy get to him at times, was possessive to a certain degree, spent too much time tinkering in his lab and focusing on Iron Man, constantly spoke before he thought and she often felt more like his mother than his girlfriend.

But he was trying, she'd give him that. A few spontaneous dates and some extravagant gifts that she had no need for didn't exactly give the impression that this would be a lasting relationship, but she was strangely comfortable with the dynamic they had. It wasn't exactly what she'd wanted nor pictured, but with Tony Stark as the other half of this relationship she would take what she could get for the time being.

Besides, the time and dates they did spend together was something Pepper really looked forward to as they were a nice break from stress and monotony and it gave her a moment to relax and be herself, something Tony was rather fond of and had been trying to accomplish for years.

But their dates, like their relationship, were rather unorthodox as well if the fact that they were wandering through Central Park sharing a box of doughnut holes was any hint. At least it wasn't Burger King again like their first date had been.

The air was a bit damp as a forewarning sign of rain as they walked, and Tony had spent the last ten minutes debating with himself over when the time was appropriate to offer Pepper his jacket. As it stood now he had the box tucked into the crook of one arm and the other wrapped around her waist as they walked down one of the park's multiple paths and she leaned into his warmth. He hadn't liked the fact that they'd had to maintain their distance and wait until they'd actually gone a bit deeper into the darkening green to actually start acting like a couple, but he'd chosen to suck it up for the time being if only because that meant he got enjoy the next few hours in peace.

And he was still glancing around just to see if there were any prying eyes focusing their attention on them despite their being in a rather secluded part of the park (though one couldn't really be secluded out in public, could they?). Pepper was doing the same, though she appeared more at ease than he was at the moment.

"Tony?" she called his name after a short bit and he turned to her with a grin tugging at his eyes. "You okay?"

He let the grin touch his mouth. "Yep," he replied, popping the 'p' as they entered the glow cast by one of the streetlamps while stepping onto one of the bridges dotting the park. She shook her head with a snicker before tangling her fingers with his and giving a small squeeze to calm his thoughts.

In response Tony gave her a light tug and pulled her toward him when they reached the center of said bridge. Pepper gave a slightly startled gasp when he did so, whirling around and practically slamming into his chest. Placing her palm beside the arc reactor she leaned back enough to look him in the eye and smirked while he set their box of doughnuts on the stone beside them in order to free his hand and set it upon her hip.

"Well, aren't you romantic."

"I try," he smirked, brushing his lips against her forehead. "You seem surprised."

"Should I be?" she quipped, unoccupied arm winding around his shoulders.

"Dunno," Tony murmured, bending down to kiss her to make up for the one Steve and Clint had interrupted.

Pepper was just leaning back into him and about to return the gesture when the sound of a fallen branch snapping was heard and the two exchanged a quick, deer-caught-in-the-headlights-and-about-to-be-busted look before locking their hands together again and sprinting off of the bridge into the dark.

A teenage boy emerged a few seconds later, stumbling over the tree limb his foot had snapped before righting himself and readjusting the camera strap around his neck. He paused to squint in the general direction of the bridge he could have swore he'd just seen two people run across before he shrugged, stuffing his hands back into his pockets.

The kid resorted to simply raising an eyebrow at the box of doughnut holes that had been left behind.

* * *

"Staring at it isn't going to make it grow back any faster,"

"I can't help it. Sorry."

Natasha just rolled her eyes again as Clint's gaze kept slipping from the movie they'd been watching to the side of Dr. Banner's face and the spot above his eye that was currently lacking an eyebrow. He had the nerve to look sheepish about it, so at least Bruce wasn't getting too angry or annoyed. Even he himself found the situation rather amusing and couldn't help lifting a hand to feel the skin that had once been adorned with dark hair.

Thor apologized again and Steve remained fairly silent during the conversation, studying the screen carefully as another scene he didn't understand unfolded. This man—clearly the bad guy, obviously—was intent on killing this one boy—the boy with the scar on his forehead, right? Using a. . .stick? It wasn't like Steve was ignorant and had no clue what wizards were, but the idea hadn't always been overly appealing to him as a child, preferring stories of _real_ people over fantasy. Thor seemed to be enjoying the film, nonetheless.

Clint had loudly whispered to Steve that it was taboo to mention the villain's name—what was it, Volde. . .something. He should know this.

He was about to quiz them again when his phone smoothly cut in and he frowned at the notion of his pocket buzzing, jumping at the sudden sensation and earning a muffled snicker from Black Widow as she bit her lip at the sight. Steve momentarily glowered at the electronic device that Tony had handed him a short while ago, telling him to use it as a communication device and to _try not to prank call too many people without me, all right?_

One of the things that Steve liked about Bruce (and Miss Potts, admittedly) was his patience, especially when it came to trying to understand the cellphone that he still didn't know how to work. (The whole iPhone incident that came at a later date was another story entirely.) As such it only took two minutes less than usual for him to open the message that Tony Stark had sent him.

_'Back at the shawarma joint you asked why that sacrifice play was so easy.'_

Steve briefly frowned as he read, nodding to himself before remembering that Stark couldn't see him. The others couldn't help their curiosity and peered over his shoulder as he deciphered the words on the tiny screen. He timidly asked for a bit more aid when his phone informed him of an attachment and Natasha extended a finger, indicating where Steve should press.

As he did so up cropped a somewhat blurred picture of Pepper Potts, shadow cast over her features and turned away from a streetlamp somewhere in Central Park, smiling with her hand over her mouth. Her eyes were closed and she was clearly enjoying herself from the way she was laughing—at something Tony had said or did or whatever else.

They regarded the image carefully for a moment, Clint shooting a look at his partner out of the corner of his eye and Thor smiling fondly at the memory if a woman he was reminded of. Bruce and Steve felt different pangs, memories of a love lost and a short spark of resentment that Tony Stark of all people had something that had been taken from them.

The message concluded after that:

_'You tell me.'  
_

The five Avengers were quiet for a bit after that before Rogers closed the message and though they didn't say it in so many words, they were each happy for Stark in their own way. Barton was the first to break the silence, plopping back down into the spot on the couch he'd been nesting in.

"Stark's become a sap and the world's about to end. But we had a good run," he muttered. Agent Romanoff rolled her eyes and resumed her place beside him while Bruce chuckled to take the edge off.

Thor's attention was instantly diverted from the situation when Professor Quirrell ran onto the screen, shouting about trolls in the dungeon.

"Where might one find these trolls?" the Thunderer quizzed after the man had fainted and the children began screaming. Steve gave him a near-pitying look though quite honestly he wouldn't have been surprised if one such troll popped up now, given everything else that had occurred. Banner had already had to deal with the flying monkeys thing from last night, so he was going to leave it up to someone else to fill in the blanks.

Natasha was seriously considering the idea of sewing Clint's mouth shut or teaching him to think before he spoke, especially when he was deviously smirking like he was right now.

". . .Have you ever heard of something called the Internet, Thor?"


	11. Chapter Eleven

**A/N: **Well. So we meet again. Trying to update now because I'm leaving for a week and would rather not go two weeks without updating again. I'll pretend I know what I'm doing and you guys can all just pretend to laugh.

Comic friggin' Con. Of course I don't go and of course they show Iron Man 3 footage and of course every video you find cuts off RIGHT BEFORE THEY SHOW THE FOOTAGE because they can't show it outside of Comic Con and of course there are supposed to be Pepperony spoilers and and and  
I just can't, you guys.  
I just can't.

Had to re-write the beginning of this one too because it was all angsty and moody again. Apparently early morning me decides that pain is funny.

Guys, what's wrong with me.

Sorry, Becor. You said you wanted more of Thor and then this happened. XD  
But other than that most of me doesn't like this chapter because it's pretty much a filler because I didn't want to leave you guys with a gap in updates. |:  
I'm sorry. This is probably my least favorite chapter [especially the end, because I just. . .yeah.], mostly because I didn't even know what I was doing half of the time and I guess I just have this as-is because I just wanted it done. Probably one of the worst things to do. xD;;  
I've never seen an allergic reaction up close and personal. I dunno how this works. ._.

* * *

_Strawberries & Shawarma_  
—Chapter Eleven:

"We need a plan of attack!"  
—_Steve Rogers  
_

* * *

The Prince of Thunder calmly awoke that morning with a wall of windows gently filtering in sunlight and let out a slow breath before grinning to himself and rolling out of bed.

Literally. Like just-fell-off-the-bed-and-hit-the-floor rolled out of bed.

That put a bit of a damper on his mood, but Thor wasn't going to allow himself to be so easily swayed, instead picking himself up off of the floor, nodding to the ceiling in response to JARVIS' inquiry of his well-being and decided that it was presumably more appropriate to don some clothing before he ended up leaving his chambers—guest room, _guest room,_ Tony had called it, evidently not too find of having to share his living quarters with someone who wasn't Pepper—in his current shirtless state.

_No shirt, no shoes, no service,_ Clint had muttered the first time he'd accidentally run into the half-naked demi-god after the city clean-up they'd been working on. The latter had just wanted to ask how one went about using a shower as unique as Stark's, having too many knobs and settings that he just didn't understand.

Well, that and Tony wasn't too fond of Pepper running into a shirtless Thor post-shower.

With that in mind, the man sniggered to himself and tromped his way over to the chest of drawers that had been filled with clothing that miraculously managed to fit him—none of which were Stark's, seeing as the latter was quite a bit smaller than the Asgardian—and immersed himself in the comparison of plaid shirts and plain cotton ones before deciding that it honestly didn't matter.

Upon leaving his room, Thor made a note of how unnervingly quiet it was, lacking the noise and activity that it had the night before once Tony and Pepper had gone off on their date and left the lot of them to their own devices. He merely assumed it was because the others were still asleep.

He paused momentarily in his journey to the common room when the thought of the unorthodox couple came to mind and then suddenly he couldn't remember when they'd come home or if they'd even come home at all. Captain Rogers had made an inquiry last night once it had gotten to be early morning and they had the first three Harry Potter films under their belt, but Agent Barton had shrugged it off and said that they were probably either lost or dead so they should all just go to bed and leave it at that.

Thor didn't find either option overly amusing, but he'd said nothing about it.

Still, he was curious as to whether or not the Man of Iron and his lady friend had made it back safe and sound and he was all too prepared to go rouse the others and start a search-and-rescue operation when a light snore greeted him as he crossed the threshold into the main room and he froze upon the sight of a hand lain across the back of the couch.

The God of Thunder closed the distance with a few hearty strides and then chuckled at his discovery.

Stark's hand twitched idly in his sleep before slipping off of the back of the furniture to rest on Pepper's side, the woman shifting gently and burrowing her face further into his neck. A blanket that had formerly been spread across them was twisted around their legs and in the back of his mind Thor wondered if he was supposed to readjust it and place it over the couple again. Instead, he chose to stand there for a few more heartbeats and tried to ignore the niggling feeling that he was intruding as he watched Tony tighten his arm around Pepper's waist, both holding her closer to him and keeping her from rolling off of the couch and onto the floor.

After giving them both a quick survey in order to check for any wounds and deciding that they could do with being left alone for a bit, Thor gave the two of them a nod, his blessing—if that even meant anything; he'd like to think it was just a nice thing to do—and then ventured over to the stack of books that Pepper had pulled aside the day before after lunch, informing both he and Steve that they were free to browse through them and any of the others if they so chose, both to entertain themselves and learn a thing or two about this world.

Thor was debating between _East of Eden_ and a book on King Arthur when Clint announced his presence rather loudly.

"Hey, Stark and his girlfriend ever make it back last night or did they get abducted by angry green Martians and now we have to go save them?" Early morning humor obviously wasn't Barton's strong-suit, but that was made up for by the fact that Thor didn't even understand the joke and just let it slide.

"The Man of Iron and his mistress have returned," the Asgardian said. "They are still asleep."

This earned a quirk 'brow from the archer, who remained standing by the entrance to the room and folded his arms over his chest. "Damn, and I was looking forward to fighting Marvin and his pals. This is disappointing."

"I do not understand, I thought we were glad that our fight with the alien army was over?" Thor frowned and Clint sighed.

"Well yeah, but. . ." As he spoke, Tony gave a small grunt from the couch as he shifted his position and the S.H.E.I.L.D. agent was abruptly on edge with his fists clenched. "The hell?"

Thor watched in bemusement while Hawkeye strode over to the sofa with a certain look on his face before peering over the edge and finding Tony and Pepper happily asleep and cuddled together.

". . .Cute. Whatever," The man shook his head, muttering something about Stark turning into a sap under his breath before turning his attention back to the man leafing through the story of Adam Trask and his family. "Anyway. I'm bored and sitting around in this Tower for days on end is going to drive me insane. Tasha and I thought we'd head out and check out this farmer's market. . .thing up a few blocks and see if we can't find something cool." He hooked a thumb over his shoulder in the general direction of the door. "You in?"

"Tasha?"

"Natasha. Black Widow? The only estrogen officially on the team, apparently."

"Ah."

Barton nodded before realizing that bringing up 'estrogen' wasn't something he was up for discussing. He'd heard enough about some tampon discussion and oh man, no thank you.

Thor had to admit that remaining indoors without much to do wasn't exactly at the top of his list of priorities and he didn't really have that much else to do. Besides, what could it hurt, venturing outside to this market and immersing himself in some Midgardian cultures in a place that was most likely full of food? He liked these foods and well. . .Look, it was either that or sit back and read while Stark Industries' leading couple dozed on the couch.

Tony muttered something about blueberries as they left.

* * *

After their initial discovery of the couple dozing together on the couch, Bruce and Steve were quite content to sit on the other side of the common room with their own respective books to go over with Pepper educated Tony on the pile of paperwork that both had been putting off and had crinkled the night before when he'd decided to tackle her.

Bruce had just about had the crap scared out of him as he walked into the common room when Pepper suddenly sat up on the couch.

His reaction had Steve dodging a blow to the face and the startled gamma expert tried to calm his heart rate.

The woman blinked at them tiredly for a moment and then promptly laid back down.

Captain America and the Hulk's alter ego stared, unabashed for a few moments and exchanged an '_wait, you saw that too,_ _right? Oh man, is she awake or still asleep?_' look before giving one another a short nod and venturing over to the same assortment of books that Thor had been pawing through not even twenty minutes ago in an effort to find the one on the last few decades of America history that Pepper had purchased the day previous while out with Steve.

Said man shot her another glance to see if she was still unconscious or not while Bruce leafed through the pages of _The Odyssey_ absently and added it to his list of books to re-read.

"I think Miss Potts is asleep," he finally managed, only to be proven wrong a few minutes later when she twisted again and found herself meeting the twin gazes of the two men currently eying her and Tony warily. Her first reaction was to give a short shout and jerk backwards, earning much of the same reaction from Tony, who she elbowed in the gut before forcing herself upright, fully awake and alert.

Tony hadn't appreciated the abrupt wake up call and had made it quite clear that she would have to make up for it in the future with a coy wink. Steve had frowned while Bruce rolled his eyes and Pepper elbowed her boyfriend in the stomach again.

"I still don't see why you do this," he said, staring unseeingly at the sheets of paper he was supposed to be reading over. "This is just about as boring as. . .well, picture the most boring thing you can think of. And then make it more boring."

Pepper shook her head idly in response, not once glancing up from the contract she was studying, taking the pen she'd been twirling in her hand and jotting down a quick note in the margin, drawing a neat circle from that to something that had caught her attention. Truth be told, Tony honestly didn't know how she'd managed to do all of this paperwork for the past twelve years or so without completely losing it. Upon waking up from their rather unconventional sleeping arrangements Pepper had just about jumped headlong into it despite his protests of _nope _and_ come back to_ _bed_—just before he'd realized that they were not, in fact, in bed—after she'd greeted both Steve and Bruce like there was nothing unusual about the situation.

About an hour later and they were still going at it.

"You'd be surprised," she finally muttered after a few minutes of being unresponsive. In that time their guests had swapped books and were reacquainting themselves with tales of Odysseus and The Roaring Twenties. Both were just grateful that they weren't in the same boat as Stark. Pepper frowned at the paper she was reading again and Tony mirrored her expression, reaching toward her.

"Tony, who is this Arthur Parks man?"

His brow furrowed further as he took the contract from her, gaze roving over it and Pepper watched in that strange wonderful awe that came over her every time she watched him seamlessly slip from Tony Stark, Iron Man to Anthony Stark, CEO of Stark Industries and the carefully calculating, meticulous and stubborn businessman that had managed to keep the company afloat during its ups-and-downs (despite that last stock plummet and the events that had befallen around the time of the Expo) as his jaw clenched just so.

Rogers paused in recounting Homer's epic to take in the suddenly quiet and clearly displeased Stark Jr.

"One of the guys in R&D scrapping the bottom of the barrel," Tony said. "He's a pretty smart guy and fantastic physicist working with laser technology, but I was kinda concerned with some of his recent proposals." He rose an eyebrow as he handed the contract back to Pepper. "I thought I gave him some, ah, paid time off. What's he want now other than money?"

Pepper gave the text before her a grimace. "Something about energy projection and miniature laser diodes."

Steve pretended to know what they were taking about. Bruce was fairly interested in the discussion as it involved both science and an interestingly serious Tony (and Tony did get rather serious about his science, which was in itself interesting to see).

"Keep some tabs on him," Stark finally said after a few minutes, choosing instead to immerse himself in poking at Pepper's feet which had been strewn across his lap during their homework session. He gently wrapped a hand around her ankle when she went to pull away.

Making a few marks on the page, his co-CEO added a sticky note to its edge before setting it aside and moving to the next one. "Okay, Advanced Idea Mech—"

"I have no interest in this A.I.M. thing and or its MODOK thing. Pass." Tony sighed in exasperation, letting his head loll back onto the couch. Paperwork was boring and A.I.M. was driving him up the wall with its constant offers. They were much better things to occupy his time that he could think of, like tinkering around in the lab or upgrading the Iron Man or something to do with the woman sitting right next to him. With certain thoughts in mind it was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore the two guests in the room. "What's a MODOK anyway?"

Pepper sighed before adding a note to the proposal that was again going to be denied. "I don't know, maybe it has something to do with—"

"Room service!" Clint's voice called, effectively cutting her off as he bounded around the corner. He was followed closely by Natasha and Thor, the former looking exhausted and like she regretted not bringing a leash for the two men she'd gone to the farmer's market with. Thor was just more than happy that he'd gotten a few free food samples.

And by 'a few' that meant 'a whole helluva lot' and by 'free' that meant Natasha had to pay for everything. Now Stark just owed her one-thirty-five plus change because he'd given her partner the idea in the first place.

Speaking of Barton, the man himself was bounding on over to Tony and Pepper like an excited child about to show his parents the B-plus he'd gotten on an exam because he was usually a C-minus student and wanted something to put on the fridge other than the Great Uncle Nobody Really Liked's holiday card (he'll just be called Great Uncle Nick for now, just don't let him hear someone call him that). He extended his arms to the both of them, offering in one hand a Tupperware container that had been filled to the brim with some sort of tart and in the other. . .

"Is that a cactus?"

Tony blinked before the thing was shoved into his hands in spite of his muttering about not liking being handed things.

"Yes. A cactus," Clint deadpanned, speaking to man in front of him in an almost condescending way—not unlike the way JARVIS had while watching a certain movie the other day. "We," he nodded in the general direction of the two that had gone out with him, having made their way to the kitchen at the far end of the room to deposit their bags there. "Thought we'd get you two a gift. Kinda like a sorry-we-trashed-your-place—and by 'we' we mean mostly the Hulk, no offense, Dr. Banner—and-thanks-for-letting-us-crash-here housewarming gift."

Stark glanced from the cactus and then back up at Hawkeye. Pepper had pulled her legs back to herself and was giving the plant the same incredulous look.

"Also: this thing symbolizes your guys' relationship." Clint smirked. "Once it dies. . .well."

The others weren't surprised when Iron Man gave him a death glare.

"Not that we mean anything bad by that. I mean, how the hell do you even kill a cactus, right? It's like a cockroach: you can't kill it. It's a win-win." He was trying extremely hard not to laugh at this point.

Pepper's face was unnervingly impassive when she turned to face him.

"Are you saying our relationship is like a cockroach?"

Clint suddenly found nothing to laugh about. Natasha just about face-palmed.

"No! I just. . .It's a. . .gift. Free plant. Yay, cactus." He was floundering and apparently no one was planning on tossing him a life-preserver. "Cactus. . .yay. . ."

Right then, Bruce kind of pitied him.

"Okay, so this is the part where you go 'Oh, thanks for the gift, Clint!' or 'Oh, you shouldn't have, Clint!' and then everybody's happy and I don't unintentionally almost kill anybody today."

Tony wasn't completely sold on the idea, but thankfully his attention was diverted by the container that Clint was absently waving around in his other hand.

"What is that?" he asked, inclining his head in its general direction and even Steve strained to see, curious.

The life preserver that Barton had been hoping for was suddenly looped around his neck and he beamed, thankful that someone had put an end to his stammering.

"Ah yes, this! Food!" he then held it out toward Miss Potts as a peace offering in that Sorry-I-Almost-Shot-Your-Face-Off-Yesterday-Can-We-Be-Friends-Now-Kind-of-Way that was almost endearing. The woman watched carefully as he peeled back the lid to expose numerous tarts that looked just about as appetizing as her new Relationship Cactus did. "Here. Try one. It tastes like Jesus."

"I didn't realize that was a flavor," she murmured, hesitantly reaching out to take one as their on-lookers chuckled at the remark. Clint shrugged before holding the container out to Tony in effort to get him on his side again.

Pepper exchanged an apprehensive look with her boyfriend while her previously would-be murderer scampered over to the rest of the Avengers in order to share whatever tarts he'd bought.

"Mozel tov!" Thor just stared at Hawkeye when he said this, but thought nothing of it while Steve rolled his eyes and took one of the offered tarts.

Bruce had to admit that they were pretty good as he ate his, the topping an unrecognizable blended mixture of what tasted like raspberries, a bit of blueberry and quite a bit of—

His thoughts and appraisal were interrupted when Pepper cleared her throat, and they each turned their attention to her, expecting her to have something to say. Instead she shook her head with the wave of a hand and cleared her throat again. Tony paused mid-bite to ask if she was all right.

"I'm fine," she wheezed. "Just went down the wrong. . .Ah," her hand rubbed at her throat and she left the rest of her tart forgotten on the arm of the couch. "Just. . .I. . ."

Steve rose from his chair while Natasha darted to the cupboard and the sink to procure a glass of water. "Miss Potts, are you all right?"

Pepper nodded weakly. "I'm fine, I'm just. . ." She reached up to fan herself with the collar of her shirt. "It's really warm in here. . ."

Tony was on his feet about two seconds after that while trying to stop her from panicking and forcing his voice to voice to stay level. "Barton. What's in those things."

"Dunno, some fruit, I think. I thought they were pretty good. . ." he trailed off at the reddening in Pepper's face the way her lips appeared to have puffed up a bit.

"Barton." Stark snapped, startling the rest of them and Natasha paused as she worked on closing the distance between her and the woman struggling to breathe, Dr. Banner hot on her heels. "What. Is. In. Them."

"Uh," the archer began, flustered all over again. "Raspberry, maybe? Some blueberry, I don't know and, uh. . ."

Tony was dangerously close to wrapping his hands around Clint's neck and throttling him.

"'Uh,' what?"

". . .strawberries?"

Pepper gave a soft gasp in lieu of the panicked cry she would have given had she been able to get enough air.

"_Strawberries?_"

Iron Man's nostrils flared and he was honestly considering lunging at Hawkeye and give him a piece of his mind when he abruptly spun on his heel and sprinted out of the room, gunning in the direction of the bar upstairs.

"JARVIS! Mark VII!" he shouted.

"Sir, we're hardly begun the repairs after your latest ordeal and I don't think—"

"_Just do it!_" his voice thundered from down the hall. Bruce was working to keep Pepper from going into shock and asking if she had any sort of EpiPen that she could use in this situation and the most the woman could do nod in the general direction of her purse. He left Natasha to dig through that and Steve and Thor to remain off the side, completely baffled. Clint was just beside himself because—twice in the same number of days? Was this going to become some sort of ritual, him almost killing Pepper?

After a few moments of hurried searching Black Widow finally found the damn EpiPen only after dumping the contents of Pepper's purse onto the floor. Bruce offered the suffering woman a small smile before yanking off the gray activation cap and timidly placing his hand upon her thigh.

"I'm sorry," he said right before holding the device firmly in fist and then jabbing it into her leg at a ninety-degree angle and holding it there. She squeezed her eyes shut at the sensation just as Tony came running back into the room, securing bracelets on his wrists and taking in the sight that was his comrade giving his girlfriend an epinephrine injection. Both men exchanged a look that clearly conveyed the need to take her to the hospital immediately.

"You trust me, Pep?" he asked once Bruce had pulled away and Pepper was still wishing she could breathe normally. She gave a hesitant nod before Tony tucked one arm behind her back and other under her knees. Instinctively her arms went around his neck and she gave a hesitant nod. "Well good, because otherwise this would never work."

And with that, Tony took off toward the wall with the Avengers calling out to him and a red and gold pod streaming after him.

Pepper hardly had time to think about screaming when she was suddenly free-falling.

Clint waited a few tense heartbeats and for the glass to stop raining down before throwing his hands up in defeat.

"Okay, next time we buy food how 'bout somebody warns me about food allergies so I can avoid almost killing someone? . . .Again?"


	12. Chapter Twelve

**A/N: **I have no idea. I really don't. Leaving again for a few days and didn't want to delay the update for forever. Kindly disregard Pep's sudden soon-ish [next chapter] departure? Just...go with me on this? D: sorry sorry, probably alotta typos. It's 3 a.m. and I'm kinda rushing to get this done and posted. x_x yo, also: does anybody else here have a tumblr? Because I made one because a friend told me to and still have no idea what I'm doing and need people to follow. I'm kk-ann there, PM me with your tumblr...thing and we can go bother each other? |:

That aside, feel free to shoot me with ideas! This lot is going to be left to their own devices for a few days, so lord knows they're going to cause some sort of trouble for themselves. :D

I think Clint's done trying to kill Pepper from here on out, haha. Becks, here you go. Kinda. And Fishy...thank you. Thank you so, so much. [_Chaos Cloooock_.]

* * *

_Strawberries & Shawarma_  
—Chapter Twelve:

"Stalling won't change anything."  
—_Loki  
_

* * *

To say that the hospital ER staff was unnerved by the sight of Iron Man rushing in with a woman about to go into anaphylactic shock was more than just an understatement.

"Y'know, I'm still amazed that even worked," Tony said from where he sat, lounging in a hospital chair and otherwise bored out of his mind while Pepper rolled her eyes for the umpteenth time. She swung her legs in the air beneath her absently, her boyfriend watching her bare calves with suddenly renewed interest.

"I thought you said that you'd done it before, back when Loki had thrown you out of the window?"

He shrugged. "Yeah, but that was different. I wasn't trying to hold on to my asphyxiating girlfriend and get the suit on at the same."

"Asphyxiating. Interesting word choice." She quirked an eyebrow at that, but said nothing past that aside from shaking her head. For the time being she merely clenched her jaw and glowered at the wall she was facing in the hospital room. Neither her nor Tony were overly fond of hospital to begin with, giving them both all the more reason to hurry it up and be done with the whole thing.

The man had taken to insistently tapping against the arm of his rather uncomfortable chair and it was seriously getting on her nerves.

"I'm leaving, Tony,"

The tapping paused mid-beat and then he snickered.

"Well hey, I want to get you out of here too but—"

"No," Pepper cut in, closing her eyes. "I mean it." There was a scraping noise as Tony stood and the chair moved backwards and the sudden shift of weight on the mattress as he came to sit beside her.

She held her tongue as he took her hand and he spoke quietly. "Well, what do you mean?"

"California," she forced out after a beat. "I have to go there for a few days, just to sort out some things that we didn't fully take care off before we came over here. And I have to make up for the meeting in D.C. that I missed." She took a quick breath before rushing out her next words and interrupting whatever Tony had been meaning to say. "I know it's stupid but I didn't want to tell you because there were so many other things going on, what with the Avengers and clean-up and dealing with the press and now this. . .I didn't want to—"

"Pepper," Tony cut in, border-lining on amusement and annoyance. "First off, maybe next time we don't start with 'I'm leaving' and secondly. . .what're you so worried about?" His free hand reached out to squeeze her knee and it gave a reflexive twitch. "Pepper, seriously. Don't worry about anything. I've got this all under control."

She was about to remark on how that was what worried her but then his face was suddenly too close to hers to even think of saying such things and the thought that she was stuck in a hospital gown abruptly came to mind.

One of the two whispered a mumbled something to the other and the returning doctor that walked in on them kissing pretended to have an extremely engaging mental conversation with one of his charts.

* * *

Needless to say, both Tony and Pepper were fairly amused to find Clint's gift to them sitting on their bed rather forlornly and Pepper heaved a sigh while Tony debated whether or not she'd be mad if he went to beat the crap out of Barton.

He sniggered to himself when he noticed the note attached to the pot, _The Relationship Cactus _having been written and scribbled out and replaced by _The Sorry-I-Almost-Killed-You-Again-But-I-Hope-We-Can-Still-Be-Friends (But-I-Understand-If-You-Say-No) Cactus._

The woman smiled to herself as she read the apology note that was also included, but Tony's attention was more focused on how Pepper didn't seem too bothered by the fact that she'd almost died (exaggeration?) because of some damn _strawberries. _And while he couldn't necessary blame Clint because he hadn't known that they were her one allergy, he was still bothered by how easily she seemed to brush it off as if the whole ordeal had been nothing.

Hell, if had been Tony—well, okay. It had been Tony. At one point. Unintentionally. But he hadn't known either. But he should have, seeing as they'd known each other for a decade. But he'd been dying. And an idiot. (Not that he wasn't still an idiot.) Okay maybe it was the context because when _he'd_ brought her strawberries there'd been a lot going on and. . .

"Tony?" her voice broke him from his thoughts and he glanced up, flashing her a grin when he found her standing right in front of him, hands poised just above his shoulders.

"Yes?" he quipped, taking the opportunity to loop his arms around her and bring her closer.

Pepper pushed herself up onto her toes enough to work on closing the slight height gap between them and pause just before her lips could meet his. "What're you thinking?"

Tony was thinking a lot of things. Now he just had to choose the most appropriate one to focus on. His grin only grew and his girlfriend gave a breathy 'eep' when he suddenly shifted and gripped her hips.

"Me? I was just thinking. . ." he trailed off, leaning toward her again. "Do you know how great you look in a hospital gown?"

Pepper rewarded him with a glare but nonetheless gave him a quick peck before twisting out of his grasp. He gave her a pout as she turned away, moving to pick up the cactus and set it upon a nearby end table instead of risking its life to Tony's rear end because there was no doubt in her mind that he would probably end up sitting on it if she didn't move it in time.

It wasn't until the woman had shaken her head with another laugh and was about to wander off that Tony spoke again, calling out to her.

"Hey, does this mean that every time I screw up I have to get you a cactus? Because at this rate we'll have a whole army."

Pepper turned and leveled him with a look that he shrugged at. "You get me an army of cacti and I will defenestrate you."

She let that linger in the air between them before again moving to take her leave and let that all sink in for Tony. It took another minute before it clicked.

"I don't appreciate the idea of being thrown out of the window, Pepper!" he shot back, even if he'd had the exact same thing done to him only a few days previous. The second instance was of his own volition and he hadn't seen too many other viable plans of attack. "What about an army of goldfish? We can name them all Magikarp."

Stark Industries' leading lady shook her head at the half-assed idea and ran a hand through her hair. Tony shrugged again before deciding to plop himself down onto the bed and watched her wander around the room in an attempt to ready herself for travel back to California that would presumably be interrupted by him within the next five minutes. Best get to it before he got himself up off of his rump.

"Do you _have_ to go?" the man practically whined, eying her as she stepped into their closet in search of a bag to take with her on her travels. She shot him a near pitying look when she found the one she was looking for, re-entering their bedroom to toss it onto the bed beside him.

"Yes," she sighed, watching as he lifted a hand to toy with one of the straps, absently tapping his arc reactor with the other. "Unless you wanted to go in my place as the other co-CEO of Stark Industries, but I don't see that happening."

He shot her a look of mock hurt. "You wound me."

Pepper rolled her eyes, placing her hands at her hips. "Well someone has to; besides, you're more than welcome to come with me but. . .You seem like you'd be more comfortable hanging around here and playing with your toys."

"Eh," Tony tried to flash her a grin and she shrugged in a mixture of amusement and pure Pepper-ness (which he'd decided was a cross between serious and stern and a bunch if other things like that, a lot if which started with 's'). His voice dropped a bit in volume as it lost some humor with his next words. "How long are you gone for?"

"Three days, at least," the woman replied, tilting her head to the side slightly and he watched her fringe shift.

His brow furrowed, gaze shooting from the empty bag beside him to her. "When do you leave?"

"Late tomorrow afternoon," she paused and made to speak again, only to have him cut her off.

"Wait, you're leaving tomorrow and you're only telling me now?" Pepper bit her tongue at the creeping edge of annoyance in his tone.

"I just found out today, Tony. I got the call from the board at the hospital about Mr. Parks while you off hunting for the bathroom and they told me then."

He frowned at the thoughts of _well nobody told me_ and having to more or less dump Pepper in the hands of the ER nurses as he'd had to shoot back to the Tower to snag her purse and forms of ID. Honestly, you'd think they'd recognize Virginia "Pepper' Potts and _Iron Man_, of all people, but _nooo_ they had to be difficult and follow procedure or something.

Startling Steve with his short-lived return had been worth it, though.

"It isn't my fault that they had elusive bathrooms."

"There was one down the hall. You ended up on the roof."

Tony scoffed, not wanting to have to admit that hospitals skeeved him out and that having have Pepper admitted to one wasn't exactly the highlight of his day. Instead, he did the only thing he found fitting and made a move for Pepper, reaching for her waist.

"Y'know, if you're leaving soon for a couple of days. . ." he trailed off and tried so damn hard not waggle his eyebrows while he waited for Pepper to finish his sentence.

"Then I should probably finish packing," his girlfriend deadpanned and he tried his damnedest not to smack his forehead when his come on failed and she turned away to do just as she'd said.

Should have seen that coming, Stark.

With a huff he flopped back onto the mattress to stare up at the ceiling, figuring he could give her a few minutes time to get some things together before he interrupted and sent her packing to square one and brought with it the threat of spontaneous combustion. Then again, if he combusted under her glare it wasn't exactly spontaneous, was it? Well, a little, but not quite. Either way, he wasn't exactly looking forward to combusting in any way, shape or form if he could help it.

"Crap," her muttered curse caught Tony's attention as did the clattering of a box falling onto the floor and he shot up to find her crouched down, picking pieces of jewelry up off of the carpet and quickly stowing them back into the wooden container they'd fallen out of. He pitched himself from the bed with not a whole lot of finesse and joined her on his knees with a chuckle as he partook in her search and rescue operation.

"Y'know, if you didn't like the box you could have just said so," Pepper rolled her eyes at his quip, working to untangle a necklace chain from one of her watches. Rather than retort she just clicked her tongue as they shoved her jewelry back into its box and she got back to her feet. Tony watched her stand with an unabashed stare aimed at the back of her leg before shifting to stand himself, in the back of his mind hearing something that sounded like Thor's voice exclaiming _This box, I like it! Another!_

Tony was on one knee, scoffing at the thought and about to get up when a soft glint caught his attention. With Pepper with her back to him and focused on settling her jewelry box back onto the dresser before rifling through a drawer, he took it upon himself to bend over again and snatch up the lone ring they'd both manage to overlook with a small smirk.

"Missed one," he said, causing her to twist around and quirk a 'brow at his position and trying not to snicker at the idea that he probably wasn't as limber as he used to be and therefore couldn't get up as easily as he once had. Tony was no spring chicken in all honesty, but he would also never admit to old age impeding him no matter what anyone said. (But he could mock Steve for that all he wanted, apparently.)

"Ah, thanks," Pepper sighed and Tony grinned at her response just as footsteps sounded from the hallway. They didn't think too much of it as she reached toward the ring he was offering her until Bruce suddenly appeared in the doorway.

"Hey, Tony I—uh—" He was cut off by his own stammering, hurriedly trying back away from what he felt like was a moment he was infringing on.

The couple still didn't think too much of it until they realized the position they were in that had Bruce stuttering and backtracking so.

Tony. Kneeling on one knee in front of Pepper. Her standing before him. Taking said ring. Quick math was done.

"Ah!" came Tony's eloquent response.

"Oh!" gasped Pepper.

"Uh!" said Bruce.

Stepping away from the heavily blushing couple, Dr. Banner held his hands up in surrender, offering them his blessing and a nice 'good for you, congratulations' before heading back to whence he came.

"Er, Bruce, wait!" Tony called after him, Pepper quickly taking the ring she'd dropped onto the floor as he leapt to his feet. She turned a nice scarlet and stuck it back into the box with the others. In a vain attempt to ease some of the sudden tension and embarrassment in the room, Stark planted one on her temple and briefly mumbled something that she couldn't understand before darting out of the room and taking off after Bruce. "Get back here! That wasn't what it looked like!"

With a shaky sigh, Pepper reached up to press a hand to her forehead before running it through her hair. She chewed furiously at her lip as the burn in her cheeks started to fade slightly and she was left alone to stare at Maria Stark's engagement ring.

* * *

Bruce wasn't exactly expecting the full-body tackle. If anything, it was kind of uncalled for when Tony sailing up behind him and shoved them both into the wall.

"Oh, Jesus—" was all he'd been able to manage before they both hit the floor. Tony Stark wasn't quite the most agile person and after a few moments of struggling he'd somehow flipped them both around, hand clamped over the physicist's mouth and his eyes practically pleading alongside his tone.

"That wasn't—I don't know what you think you saw but I didn't. . .I wasn't. . .we weren't. . .I didn't. . .we're not—"

The man slumped against the wall jerked and yanked Tony's hand away. "I get it, Tony, don't worry." He rubbed the now tender spot side on his head (where he'd gotten a nice meet-and-greet with the wall) and grimaced. "But was the linebacker move really necessary?

The innovator shot him a grin and look of relief, reaching up to smack the other's bicep twice to enunciate, "De-fense,"

Bruce chuckled.

"Should I leave you two alone then?" Natasha Romanoff quipped, hand on her hip and one eyebrow raised as she can out of nowhere and startled both of them.

Tony frowned and Bruce tried to shove him away again. "Would you mind? You're about two inches away from kneeing me in the nuts and neither I or the Other Guy would appreciate that."

Black Widow rolled her eyes as Tony sniggered, getting onto his feet and then reaching down a hand to help the other man do the same. The latter earned another laugh from the man when he readjusted the collar of his shirt and then his sleeves, giving the impression that nothing at all had transpired all of thirty seconds ago and he hadn't just been thrown into the wall.

"What?" the industrialist directed at Natasha, using much the same tone as he had when he'd first met her, though she'd been Natalie Rushman at that time. She shifted attention back to him, diverting it from watching Bruce make sure the glasses that had been in his shirt front pocket hadn't been annihilated.

"We've been going the Harry Potter series for something to do and to also entertain and educate Thor and Rogers—and we're going about that much better than you did the other day with. . .that movie," The two men grimaced—one at the memory and the other at the jab. They followed her absent mindedly as she turned toward the entertainment room and continued speaking. "Now they want to know which series is next. We've managed to narrow it down to Lord of the Rings and Jurassic Park."

Tony gave a pout that she didn't see but could very well hear.

"What, no Star Wars?"

"Let's not throw too much at them. We'll work our way there," she replied, tossing the words over her shoulder.

"Oh, and wizards, elves and dinosaurs is taking it easy?" Tony scoffed from behind her. She smirked and Bruce didn't even try to hide his amusement.

"Hey, we'll work our way to the Order, you impatient little nerf herder," Banner said, leaving Tony practically cackling with glee at the hardly veiled reference in response. The less foolhardy man was still ever the voice of reason and respect, however. "Just don't go giving Steve Band of Brothers or Saving Private Ryan. Too soon."

The other two grimaced but conceded all the same, nodding amongst themselves as they entered the entertainment room and found the rest of the team already gathered there. Steve paused in his study of a series of DVDs cases and Clint halted his discussion with Thor about dinosaurs in order to meet the glare he was receiving from Tony Stark before they both turned away.

Bruce was just going over the merits of each of the offered film series when there came the soft pat of feet from the hallway, carrying Pepper to the threshold and back into Tony's unrelenting gaze.

"Did someone just walk into a wall?" Someone snickered and the gamma specialist was about to explain when out of the corner of his eye he caught the impassive look on his host's face, though the one in his eyes conveyed (he would never admit it) something akin to pleading and desperation. To cover that, Bruce just held up both box sets and smiled at Pepper.

"Jurassic Park or Lord of the Rings?"

There was a pause and her brow furrowed in slight confusion.

". . .Jurassic Park?"

Clint attempted to share a fist bump of victory with Thor before ducking out of Tony's view.

"Excellent decision!" Tony cut in, extending his arm toward his girlfriend while Bruce tossed the DVDs to Natasha. "Would you care to join us?"

Pepper gave him a careful look and he tilted his head just so in reassurance that nothing had transpired out of that recent incident and shrugged, figuring that she could always pack afterwards or early tomorrow morning and that any of that paperwork she still had could be done during her flight. Besides, she'd hear about it from Tony all night unless he hounded her until she conceded. Either you looked at it, she didn't really have much of a choice now, did she?

"Why not?"

They were all settled in and content twenty minutes into the movie, each inhabiting their spaces in the darkened room, some making comments about it already. Thor and Steve were happily seated on one if the couches, quietly discussing dinosaurs and the like (as quietly as two full-grown men—one more boisterous than the other—could talk about dinosaurs) and Bruce was perfectly content at the end of the couch he was sharing with Clint and Natasha. The former of the two was seated as far away from Tony as he could get and the woman had her legs across his lap to keep him from doing anything stupid.

Tony, for the record, was a bit too distracted that he had his own redhead to focus on to really care at that moment. They sat lounged on a love seat, Pepper tucked under his arm and he trying to pay attention to the movie and not the fact that was leaving soon.

Pepper's gaze wandered for a moment before landing on the far side of the room and then frowning slightly in the general direction of the table running alongside the wall and currently covering with a dizzying array of movie titles that the Avengers had been pawing through.

Clint clenched his jaw and Tony coughed weakly (the others tried to act impassive) at her next comment.

"Didn't we used to have a vase there?"


	13. Chapter Thirteen

**A/N: **I'm really sorry that this update is so late; I really don't like the fact that it's been a little more than a month to get this chapter out to you. I'm back at college now and classes have started and this chapter just really, really didn't want to get written. Updates might be fewer and farther in between, but we've still got a little time to wrap things up here.

A few other points I wanna address before we really get into things:  
—Clintasha story? It might crop up after I finish this, but I kind of want to test out the waters. We'll see how that goes.  
—This chapter was rewritten a few times because originally Tony wasn't in the beginning, it was just Pep and Clint.  
—I also want to say a quick 'thank you' to the couple of people reading this that may not exactly be hardcore Pepperony shippers, but I really do appreciate you taking a look. Thank you, all of you reading this. :)  
—Thank you to _FishyIcon_ for taking a first look! And for all of your help! Seriously, I don't think you understand how much I appreciate it. :D  
—I don't think I've ever actually seen a Jurassic Park movie all the way through. Guys, what.  
—WHAT IS WRITING.  
—So yeah.

ONTO THE CHAPTER. Because it's been awhile. And feel free to offer up any ideas that you might have for the next few chapters. The Avengers have three days to themselves without Pepper to keep them in line. Things are bound to be broken by then.  
Thank you for your patience. c:

* * *

_Strawberries & Shawarma_  
—Chapter Thirteen:

"You have made me _very_ desperate."  
—_Nick Fury  
_

* * *

"You know, this would probably go a lot faster if you stopped trying to grab my ass or maybe, oh, I don't know, actually thought to help me out here."

Tony, as per usual, found Pepper's exasperation rather amusing if not somewhat endearing. That was not to say that she shared the sentiment, especially when she had things to do and packing her bags for California was taking much longer than it should have. It was just easier to just blame Tony who, as previous stated, kept grabbing at her as she attempted to get her things together.

At this rate they were going to miss the beginning of the second movie in the Jurassic Park trilogy. Not cool, man. The Lost World. Jeff Goldblum. Have a heart.

"I can't help it," Stark replied, all the while rolling around on their bed and completely messing up the duvet and all Pepper could was stare at the sight, dumbfounded. She just made the bed, Tony. What the hell are you doing. Feeling her gaze trained on him he grinned and rolled again to end up right in front of her. "Enjoying the show? It'd probably be much better with you in it. Care to join me?"

Despite her brief protest, the innovator took full advantage of his girlfriend's momentary pause and lurched toward her in an attempt to loop his arms around her waist, sure to further delay her packing and see if he couldn't convince her to stay right there in New York with him. Who needed Malibu anyway. Or work. What was work.

'Attempt' being the keyword. Having misjudged the distance between them (it didn't help that Pepper had moved at the last second) Tony had a split second to curse and brace for impact.

His lower half stayed on the bed. His upper half didn't. The floor was giving his face a nice smooch and hot damn Pepper thought she was going to bust a gut from trying so hard not to laugh. Tears were prickling in the corners of her eyes and she had a hand clamped over her mouth in order to stifle the inevitable string of giggles that accompanied the sight of her boyfriend having face planted.

Watching him flail around as he tried to wriggle his torso back onto the bed just about had her in stitches.

Once he'd readjusted himself, Tony flopped back against the comforter and pouted at her, clearly believing if he waited long enough she'd come around and try to comfort him or something. (Not like that tactic had worked much in the past decade, but what the hell.)

Yeah, nope. Pepper was too busy laughing and trying to fold a skirt without creasing it too much to come to his aid. His face hurt. Rug burn. Damn.

Realizing that she wasn't about to come rushing to him, Stark frowned again and sat back up, perching himself on the side of their bed and watched her flit about with an amused air to her.

She went about her business uninterrupted for all of ten seconds.

"My face hurts,"

Pepper kept her back to him as she bit her lip against another laugh. "Does it."

His pout pulled at the corner of his mouth again while she told herself not to turn around and look at him. Don't let him win, dammit all.

Although Tony did not like this game, that didn't mean he was terrible at it. Especially considering the fact that he (almost) always won. The scales were tipped in his favor too when Pepper realized that one of the blouses that she'd been meaning to pack was sitting on the bed and that her boyfriend, in turn, was sitting on it and wrinkling the crap out of it. One of its sleeves extended from beneath his butt in a desperate attempt at freedom. She let out a quiet groan of frustration as she settled her skirt into her suitcase and Tony couldn't help but tilt his head slightly in curiosity.

He didn't like the frown she gave him when she turned around. What if she hit him. She looked like she was going to hit him.

"Tony," the tone didn't help. Briefly, the man wondered if anyone would bother to come to his aid if he screamed. Maybe they'd just let him die, in which case he'd be having some words with _somebody_. So while he debated just how much his teammates would allow him to suffer before coming to his rescue, Tony found himself zoning out, completely missing out on Pepper asking him to _move your butt, please_ and_ I need my shirt, Tony_ until he felt her hands on his face, tilting his gaze up to meet hers.

Stark was about to grin when the woman told him to get up and did so with the gentle puckering of his brow, watching her pluck her blouse (now with twice the extra butt print!) from their bed with mild interest. Since Tony was now standing when she turned away again, he took the opportunity to wind an arm around her waist and pull the woman down with him as the inventor plopped back onto the mattress. Pepper made a noise of indignation during her brief fall, clutching her shirt to her chest, her other hand instinctively grabbing the one on her hip that belonged to the laughing man pulling her into his lap.

Pepper leveled him with a certain _look_ as he snickered, tugging the article of clothing from his girlfriend's grip to toss it somewhere behind him before bracing the same hand on her knee and giving it a squeeze.

"Hey,"

There was a pause during which the redhead did little more than stare at him. ". . .Hey," she responded slowly, itching to get back to her business and starting to squirm in his grasp—she'd been almost done packing too! Geez. "Can I help you with something?"

She hadn't meant to sound short at all, but Tony pulled his mouth into a pout all the same, tightening his grip. He pressed his face into the side of her head, his nose tucked into the space behind her hear. "Oh come on, you know you're gonna miss me."

"Is that what this is about?" Pepper responded softly after a moment, tugging out the arm that was trapped between their bodies as he pulled away sharply, carefully trying to gauge the other's reaction. The look in his eyes said enough and she couldn't help a small smile. "It's three days, Tony," his eyebrows twitched at what felt like, to him, a bit of a reprimand until she finished. "But I think. . ." She laughed, her free hand reaching for the RT in his chest. "I think. . .I'm going to miss you too."

Whatever Tony had been about to say was interrupted by Pepper pressing her forehead to his, wrapping her now free arm around his shoulders. He had no problem with this.

What he _did_ have a problem with was missing her. It was only for three days (and two nights, this stuff he knew) and they'd gone even longer without seeing one another, but that had been before his extended stay. Relationship-wise, Anthony Stark could be a very private man if he wanted to and for him it did not do well to go without those close to him for an extended period of time. He didn't have many close ties and hadn't seen either Rhodey or Happy in weeks, and the reason (more or less) he'd been able to get through that time without throwing too bit of a fit had been because of Pepper. Having her constantly at his side in a manner slightly different from what they'd had some ten years ago had done wonders for him.

Mushy and romantic and oh-I'm-gonna-miss-you-soooo-much was not Tony Stark. See-you-later-or-whatever-hey-wait-a-second-I-thought-you-were-dead was more like him. This was not. Who knows, he was still trying to fully come to terms with and make out this whole stable-ish relationship thing with Pepper.

"Tony?" the sound of her voice dragged him back out of his thoughts, having found himself zoning out twice within the past ten minutes. In response, he opened his eyes when he felt her pulling away again—hints of concern marring her features just so. He tried to smile reassuringly, rubbing small circles into her kneecap as her gaze flitted across his face. "What's on your mind?"

Was that her default question for Whenever Tony Stark Stops Paying Attention? To that, he merely let out a breath, ducking his head toward hers in an effort to get his thoughts across in a way that she'd definitely understand.

Pepper tried not to frown into the kiss, instead knowing that there was clearly too much going on the in the inner workings of Stark Jr.'s mind for her to comprehend and that there were a few things that he simply did not want to talk about. It wasn't exactly a rare for Tony to find a topic that he just did not want to approach. Usually he'd diverted the conversation by making an exasperated noise or taking his shirt off. Clearly he had his priorities in order.

"That answer your question?" he mumbled, pressing his forehead to hers in order to fully convey his message. He just wanted to be done with the whole thing and she didn't hesitate to go along with it. The woman's fingers curled around the arc reactor and she nodded mutely, somewhere in the back of her mind wondering how the hell they'd both gotten so sidetracked.

They sat together there in silence for a few more minutes, ignoring the shirt crumpled against the pillows and the roars of dinosaurs coming from another room, Tony keeping Pepper on his lap and she admittedly beginning to doze in his lap. He clenched his jaw for a moment as his mind wandered again—or, more specifically, to one of the could-have-been(-in-the-right-context) more profound moments of the day and something Dr. Banner had just so happened walked in on before having the misfortune of being full-body tackled upon seeing Tony kneeling on the floor in front of Pepper.

"Hey, Pep, I was just thinking—"

"Knock, knock—Jesus."

Both—well, Pepper more than Tony, seeing as he was facing the door—jumped at the sudden appearance of a one Clint Barton, Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. and Smart-Ass Extraordinaire. The man faltered in the doorway, obviously a bit uncomfortable and quickly assuming that he'd been about to walk in on something that wasn't supposed to be walked in on. Not that they'd been too much that would have scarred Steve for life like the other day (which, he thought, had been funny as all hell), but still. This was their bedroom and their door had been wide open but STILL. One did not simply approach the bedroom door of Tony Stark (and Pepper Potts, so, uh, yeah) without knocking or assuming that everything was just fine and dandy.

But oh how cute she was just sitting in his lap and Clint you should really leave now, why are you still standing here do you have a death wish look Tony's glaring at you just do what you came to do and leave. LEAVE. CLINT GO. (There seriously should have been a sign with 'Abandon All Hope, Ye Who Enter Here.')

"Uh, right, hi," Barton began, showing off his awesome use of the English language while Pepper twisted in the other man's lap, pulling herself out of his lap much to his apparent dismay. "I was just wondering if I could, ah," (Dammit Barton, you can do this. Use your words.) "Borrow Miss Potts for a moment? Just to talk, I swear."

The woman in question shot a look at Tony—who muttered something along the lines of "Knock, knock Jesus? I wasn't aware that was a game. Is it like Duck, Duck, Goose?"— before turning back to the archer with a smile that was meant to be reassuring but in all honesty just made him feel like Tony was going to come for him in the dead of the night, for his previous two encounters with Pepper and also for interrupting whatever moment they made have been having.

He was a grown man and as such tried not to look too much a dejected puppy when his girlfriend's hand grazed the side of his face and she told him that she'd be right back. Clint gave him a look that he wanted to interpret as nervous before letting Pepper lead him out into the hall.

Tony waited until they left the room to flop back onto his bed with a grunt, reaching up to toss Pepper's forgotten shirt over his face before promptly falling asleep to the dulled scent of vanilla.

* * *

Clint figured he'd start them off and give her that full-fledged apology that he'd been working on ever since the I-Almost-Shot-Your-Face-Off-Incident but now had a footnote attached to it, labeled as the And-Then-Almost-Pretty-Much-Poisoned-You-With-Fruit-of-Death-Incident. At this rate Pepper Potts would have been dead by Tuesday. That said, three was supposed to be the lucky number and Clint figured he'd put as much space between them as possible and see if an apology would help matters any.

"You know, I'm actually surprised Stark hasn't tried to kill me yet," All right, so he wasn't starting with an apology outright, but it was true. Maybe Tony was just waiting until Barton went to sleep that night and _then_ he'd strike. (Well guess who was going to sleep with one eye open and coerce Romanoff into staying with him just for extra measure? Not like she'd care anyway. Thor snored like a T-Rex with noisy sleep apnea.)

Pepper snapped him out of his thoughts with a laugh, taking in his words with a shake of her head while the sounds of Jurassic Park II faded a bit. "I wouldn't worry so much about him."

"Huh," Clint replied, taking a small step away from her and adopting an expression of mock worry. "Oh, so it's you that I have to look for?" He clamped his mouth shut and pulled a look before speaking again. "Understandable. I take it you'll be coming after me after you smother Tasha with a pillow?"

"Egyptian cotton," the woman replied without missing a beat. Clint decided in that moment that he kind of liked her and her quirky humor. Must have stemmed from being stuck with Stark for so long.

He nodded slowly as they continued their trek down the hallway without any definite destination in mind. "Just tell me which one of us you're taking out first because I'd like to be prepared for my death. Gotta be dressed to impress, y'know."

The corner of her lip quirked upwards in a smile as he buried his hands in his pants' pockets. "No promises. I'll leave you a calling card though, if that helps any."

"I appreciate the effort and await your visit tonight. Is Stark going to be assisting you at all in your death dealing endeavors?"

In an attempt to keep herself from laughing too loud, Pepper just about gnawed a hole through her lip and watched the familiar humor spark through Barton's eyes. He was fairly surprised that she was going along his unique brand of wit, but also had to admit that was more than please that she was matching it with her own. Natasha could only take so much of the Hawkeye Comedy Hour, Fury didn't do funny and Coulson. . .well anyway, no one else really got his humor.

And then the conversation dwindled again after that. Potts offered him a nod before making to step around him and work her way back toward the bedroom that she shared with Tony in order to get the rest of her things together. (And also to check the floor for any and all loose jewelry so that there wasn't a repeat of today's earlier encounter with Bruce finding Tony kneeling on the floor before Pepper. That had already been. . .interesting enough as it was. She also needed to make sure that he was still alive.)

Mentally punching himself in the back of the head, Clint scolded himself and his inability to focus on the topic at hand and promptly spun to face to her before she wandered off into The Lair of Pepperony from whence she would never return until a few hours from now. (Clever, right? He came up with that over pizza yesterday after Pepper and Tony had left to find her a clean shirt after the I-Almost-Shot-Your-Face-Off-Incident and decided that the two needed a couple name in order to bug them with. He'd thought it was a fairly witty moniker ("Pepperony, get it? Like pepperoni? Pepper and Tony? I'm hilarious." "Clint, stop talking.") and therefore couldn't stop snickering when Tony mentioned something about the pepperoni pizza that Coulson had interrupted. Mind you, Barton's train of thought had apparently thought it would be funny to infer that Coulson had interrupted something else. He really needed to stop thinking so much. What if he was thinking out loud?)

"Miss Potts," he called after her, causing the woman to pause mid-stride and peer back at him curiously. "I just wanted to say. . .I really am sorry about the thing with the pizza and shooting that folder out of your face the other day. And I'm sorry about earlier with the strawberries and everything. Apparently no one thought to tell me about your allergies and I didn't really think to ask." Barton's shoulders twitched into a shrug as he maintained his stance in the hallway with her watching him like a hawk. (Hah!) It didn't help that apologies were a lot harder than they sounded.

Seriously. How are you supposed to apologize for almost killing someone? There should have been a handbook or something.

"I was just. . .hoping we could start over, I guess. Or something. Whichever works for you. I mean, if you don't want to be friends anymore or have to tolerate me staying here for a short while then I totally get it. But you can keep the cactus if you want."

Nearly bemused by his antics, Pepper simply gave him a kind smile, apparently having accepted his apology judging from the way she wasn't hurling things at his head or trying to kill _him_ for a change.

She sighed and Clint wasn't sure if he should turn around and book it or simply wait out whatever oncoming storm that threatened to beat the crap out of him. Seeing that the man clearly didn't know what to do with himself she took a few short, timid steps toward, speaking in a placating tone and generally attempting to help feel more at ease and less like she was about to attempt to bash in face in with a pair of heels that she currently didn't have on her.

Then again, how are you supposed to accept the apology of someone that almost killed you? Hey, food for thought. (Pepperoni for though. Jesus Christ, Clint, stop thinking.)

"Agent Barton, I. . ." Pepper started before abruptly trailing off, not exactly knowing what to say to make him feel better, let alone what to say in general. With that in mind there was a pause accompanied by the awkward shuffling of hands that were immediately stored into pockets and then a shrug from the woman as she settled for the next best thing and went with the first response that came to mind. "Don't worry about it."

Clint's eyebrow just about shot up into his hairline and she figured it would do to elaborate some.

"I mean. . .No harm, no foul, huh?" His mouth twitched into a grimace and it was all Pepper could do to keep from smacking herself in the forehead. "Look, neither the arrow nor the strawberries were on purpose, right?" She waited just long enough for him to give the slow shake of his head before continuing. "Exactly. You had no intention to try to kill me and I just so happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time and also never thought to mention any food allergies. Those were accidents, nothing more, nothing less. Please don't let it bother you so much, Agent."

Hawkeye regarded Stark's Girl Friday carefully for a moment until a grin broke across his features and a chuckle managed to escape him. To accompany the lop-sided smirk he shook his head at her again, both in a mixture of awe and thank-God-I'm-still-alive. She briefly joined him in their mirth, folding her arms and awaiting their next move. She didn't want to be rude but she really did have to finish packing. If she didn't finish now it would take her forever and a day if Tony had anything to say about it. Granted, she had until tomorrow afternoon, but by adding Tony into the mixture. . .well.

"You are one interesting woman, Miss Potts," he said once their laughter had died down a bit. He extracted one hand from a pocket, extending it out in her direction in an attempt to 'start over,' as it were. "Just call me Clint. People only call me Agent when the world's about to be invaded by aliens or I'm in trouble for hiding Fury's spare eye patch. Or maybe a combination of the two, though that hasn't really happened yet."

He was pretty much just another Tony, Pepper thought as she returned the gesture, telling him to just call her Pepper (she'd been telling them this for days now. Seriously, these people needed to get with the program already) as his hand practically engulfed hers. The archer smirked again before ending the handshake, figuring now that he'd gotten the Sorry-I-Almost-Killed-You's out of the way they could move on to bigger and better things and he could let her go about her business again.

Clint was just wandering away aimlessly when Pepper's snicker caught his attention and his stride faltered momentarily.

"If you need me I'll be in the—what did you call it? The Lair of Pepperony?"

Yeah, he needed to stop thinking out loud.

* * *

Natasha might as well have been expecting Clint's crash landing. The man pretty much came flying over the back of the couch before burying his face in her lap and muttering about how Stark sucked but he'd managed to apologize to Pepper so maybe there was hope yet. She'd been waiting for him to start going 'mayday, mayday' along with a few noises to mimic the sputtering of a dying engine.

Thor was just too busy raving about dinosaurs to notice and Bruce and Steve were busy pretending that they knew how to operate Stark's microwave when it came to making another bowl of popcorn. (It was a friggin' microwave for god's sake. It shouldn't have been this difficult.) That said, no one aside from Agent Romanoff really seemed to notice that Clint had rejoined them. What a pity.

"Getting eaten by a dinosaur would suck," Barton muttered into her thigh, blissfully unaware of her eye-roll and the fact that he was missing out on dinosaur action. Seriously, the last time that they had caused havoc was a couple million years ago, sans Jeff Goldblum. But beggars can't be choosers. "Especially while you're sitting on the throne—as if getting devoured by a giant lizard wasn't bad enough."

The woman instead chose to respond by poking him in the back of the head and trying to squash the urge to knee him in the nose. This wasn't exactly the most comfortable position that she'd even been in and dammit Barton, if you start drooling. . .

He twisted his face away from her leg in order to speak, trying to grin as he did so but was thus rewarded with a certain look that told him to shut up and that he wasn't as funny as he thought. (He was also interrupting the movie, damn him.) "Hey, if I die would you give the eulogy?"

The Prince of Thunder frowned as his comrade's inquiry was drowned out by Dr. Ian Malcolm sarcastically trying to order three double cheeseburgers with everything from a man known as Eddie while being suspended in a trailer hanging over a cliff. Clint's mouth was a tight line as he watched Natasha's emotionless mask, waiting for some other form of response.

"At the rate you're going my eulogy would probably be something along the lines of 'He was an idiot and had it coming,' so I don't really know what you want from me there," She rose an eyebrow at the dismal look he gave her.

"Wait, we've known each other for how long and the most you could say when I die is that I was an idiot and had it coming? _Owww,_" he 'harump'd' again before rolling over and granting Natasha with an 'oh fine then' sort of expression, re-situating himself on the cushions and making himself comfortable on her lap. "How touching. Seriously, soon enough Stark's going to kill me and you're just going to blame me for my own death."

Steve walked back into the room with a bowl of only slightly burnt popcorn and frowned at the fact that Hawkeye had taken his seat. Not wanting to be bothered with that whole 'hey that was my seat/I was sitting there first' drama, he resigned himself to find another seat (one that didn't have a cushion stained with soda. Uh. . .no one tell Pepper, all right? Total accident. Shh.) while Barton didn't really seem to notice and instead started dozing to the soundtrack of dinosaurs roaring and Natasha tying to get him to move before her leg went numb.

Bruce had made the mistake of taking the open sitting beside Thor with his own full bowl of popcorn, promptly tossing its contents across the room upon the sudden exclamation of:

"These dinosaurs! Why do we not possess such magnificent creatures! They would surely make worthy companions in battle!"

Clint groaned and blindly reached for a pillow to bury his face in.

"If S.H.I.E.L.D. ever sends us to some remote islands full of dinosaurs, I hope they eat him first."


	14. Chapter Fourteen

**A/N: **Ah you guys.  
Okay, so, wow. It's kind of funny because I kind of...more or less zoned out in class the other day and just started writing. This happened. XD  
Also, like last time, there are a few quick points that I want to address:  
—This thing will be wrapped up shortly! There's only a few chapters left, so that's exciting. Haha seriously though, I'm kinda looking forward to the end? I've been planning it for a while now. [At the same time though, NOOOO WHY IS THIS HAPPENING.]  
—Clintasha story? Soon. Once this one ends. I have no idea what I'm doing. Time for research. About Budapest and other things. Might post the first bit just as a teaser and see how that goes over? I still have a lot to plot out for it, though. |:  
—**GUYS, GUYS.** _Lyssie212_ drew fan-art! Oh my god I thought I was going to start sobbing or something. She did scenes from Chapter 7 & 10! [They're titled as _"You're Safe"_ and _"Cover Yer Eyes"_] Now I'm sure the link's aren't going to work, but if all else fails just go to 'Lyssie212' on deviantART and check out her gallery. Seriously though, please check her out. She's awesome. :)  
Please.

—And I seriously need ideas for what these people will be up to in the next few chapters. Like pranks, joke, things like that? I've got a few and such, but anything you guys offer would be really cool. (

Lot of Bruce and Natasha bonding in this chapter. Needed them to interact and needed to write with some of the other characters. Pepperony at the end though, but hopefully you don't skip over all of this just to get to that. XD;

Do you guys read these or what are we doing. ಠ_ಠ Okay. Chapter. Go.  
Longest chapter yet. Jeeeeeez.

* * *

_Strawberries & Shawarma_  
—Chapter Fourteen:

"I'm sorry, that was mean."  
—_Bruce Banner  
_

* * *

It was six in the morning and Bruce Banner was wide awake, wandering around with a cup of tea and trying not too hum too loudly, least he disturb the others.

He really wasn't too surprised when he found his feet carrying him to the very same room whose floor the Other Guy had bashed Loki into. It was also the same in which the team—sans Natasha—had first met Virginia Potts and watched her (not for the first time) struggle to restrain herself from strangling Tony Stark. The doctor paused in the doorway momentarily before entering, side-stepping small piles of rubble and broken glass while the mug of hot liquid warmed his hands while he made his way to what remained of the windows.

The remaining destruction to the Tower had been ignored for the most part, the remodeling focus being centered more so on the city itself, headed by this Damage Control company that S.H.I.E.L.D. liked to utilize when it came to cleaning up after superheroes while Pepper defended the notion, informing Tony that they could do without the bar for a little while longer. Stark hadn't said much on the topic other than an eye-roll and then staring blankly at the broom the woman promptly fetched for him, saying that if he wanted the room redone so badly he could do it himself until the construction crew came on Monday. (He would have retorted, but sleeping on the couch wasn't high on his list of priorities, no matter how comfortable it was. It was the idea.)

With that in mind, Bruce smirked at the sight of the cleaning object in question off to the side, leaning haphazardly against the wall where Tony had left it. The man snickered, tempted to leave his a comrade a golden 'you tried' star as he set his tea on an undamaged section of the floor. Pepper would have said that he really didn't have to do so, but he picked the broom up anyway and took it upon himself to get some of the cleaning done, seeing as he had been the main cause of most of it. (Well, the Other Guy, really. Besides, he probably had a couple hours still until the others were up. The sun had just barely risen half an hour ago and he'd already done an hour of meditation. Time to do other things.)

He had also caused some of the damage outside of the Tower, but they still had a little more time until they were called out for clean-up again. A lot of publicity or we're-the-good-guys-so-hopefully-you-don't-die-under-our-watch stuff, apparently. Making another well-executed public appearance and ignoring the stares people gave him because _who's that guy?_ and _where's the Hulk?_

Needless to say, Bruce was enjoying living life on the down low. He'd been doing the same for years before S.H.I.E.L.D. had found him in Calcutta (well, they'd never lost him, apparently, but whatever.) and ignoring the Harlem Incident. . .Ah.

Fury had given them the past three days off of clean-up for rest and recuperation, saying that they all needed and deserved it after being both so physically and emotionally exhausted.

What he had not been pleased with, however, was learning that the Avengers had been spending that allotted time watching movies and trying to not kill each other or each other's significant other. (They could whine and always try to pass it off as bonding, but the Director was still not overly thrilled with the notion.) If they hadn't needed medical attention after the Chitauri attack they were probably going to need it soon/now.

Needless to say, good ol' Nicky planned on contacting Miss Potts for a few words and also informing Agent Hill that these heroes better be prepared to assemble in the Arctic Circle for some team-building exercises and to have _fun playing with pissed off polar bears and building snowmen_, _motherfu—_

Bruce caught Natasha's reflection in the wall of glass before he did her greeting. He pause in his ministrations, letting the dust he'd been stirring up to settle at his feet. "Agent Romanoff."

"Dr. Banner," she nodded in response, stepping around broken bits of marble as she approached. The physicist smirked before turning to face her, leaning on his broom.

"It's just Bruce," he said, to which she nodded, a small smile looking like it was about to force its way to the surface. There was a pause, he trying so desperately hard not to shuffle as the woman shifted into a stance which he noted held hints of wariness. If he was insulted he didn't show it—sadly enough, he'd almost been expecting it. Trying not to thinking too much of it, Banner held out his hand in what he hoped to be a placating gesture. "We kind of. . ." he took a breath in an attempt to find the right words and he could feel her regarding him carefully, even if she didn't let her worry fully rear its ugly head. "Started off on the wrong foot. I'm Dr. Bruce Banner. Call me Bruce."

His hand lingered between them for a few—rapid—heartbeats and he was quickly getting the impression that Romanoff wasn't about to reciprocate before she reached for him, the corners of her mouth rising into a grin.

"Natasha Romanoff. Clint calls me Tasha,"

Bruce regarded her with a _well what am I supposed to call you then_ mindset before smiling at her and ending their handshake. For the most part, she returned the gesture. "Well it's nice to meet you again, Natasha."

With that, he picked his broom up again in order to return to his sweeping, his nerves calmed somewhat by her snicker and more so at her returned, "You too, Bruce."

They went about their business in relative silence save for the sound of marble bits rollings around on the floor and Banner found himself only mildly on edge with Romanoff in the same room as him. That said, he merely continued sweeping, watching the woman out of the corner of his eye as she wandered about the room, surveying the total damage that had been caused when Guess Who's Coming to Dinner had turned into Loki being tossed around like a limp rag-doll by the Hulk. Banner cast one of the dents in the floor a fleeting glance before deciding to attempt to strike up conversation again.

"Ah, Agent Barton. We left him on the couch, didn't we?"

Natasha gave a laugh. "Captain Narcolepsy will sleep whenever and wherever you let him. Give him a horizontal surface and some place to sit and he's out." Well, that was pretty much true, considering the fact that after dive-bombing over the couch Clint had practically passed out in his partner's lap after a few snide remarks. But seriously. The man had slept through dinosaur roars and Thor's commentary. How was that possible.

Banner chuckled and she paused before speaking again. "Will you excuse me for a moment?"

He nodded absently, not exactly surprised that he was about to be left to his own devices as Natasha left the room and ventured off to wherever. While part of him didn't particularly care, another missed the quiet company she offered after having been alone for so long.

The physicist yawned into the crook of his elbow, pausing to look around him again. In all honesty not too much was destroyed really. There were Loki-shaped holes in the floor and a bunch of broken glass everywhere, sure, but for the most part the room was in one piece. The ceiling fixture was still there, most of the furniture was all right and the bar was (actually) still in working condition, so. Could've been worse.

On a scale of One to Harlem this was more of a. . .Brazilian bottling plant. So. Not _that_ bad.

"Do you mind?"

His head snapped up at the sound of her voice, looking up to find her standing in the doorway with a smirk and a second broom that she'd managed to procure, gesturing toward the pile of rubble Bruce had been putting together. He cracked a grin.

"Go for it," And so they swept together for a bit, working to bring most of the shattered marble and glass to the center of the room, making idle chatter the entire time that focused more so on seeing who could get the other to snicker more (Bruce: 7, Natasha: 9) and how it was probably better that the two of them got a jump start on cleaning because Stark probably a) wouldn't have done it or b) would have whined the entire time. (Clint would probably sweep for all of two minutes and then find some place to nap, Steve probably would have helped them, had he not been rolling out of bed and slouching his way to the shower just now. As for Thor. . . well. That would have been something, all right.)

Their small talk included poking fun at the man currently putting a roof over their heads, which also included the notion that Pepper was more like his keeper and thus led Bruce's train of thought back to the explanation Natasha had given in regards to the Stark-Potts relationship and then to Clint's comment about calling them 'Pepperony' and then to Thor's comment about the relationship between the two S.H.I.E.L.D. agents and then—

"Barton's still beating himself up over everything, isn't he?" The sole response his inquiry received was a hum and he nodded to himself. "Ah. I understand that Tony's not too thrilled with two near-death experiences in as many days but I highly doubt he'd kill Clint, despite what he thinks."

Natasha paused before replying, piquing Bruce's interest when she did. "Stark's more overprotective than angry."

"Yeah?" He halted for a moment, broom poised mid-sweep. "If you don't mind me asking, Natasha, how do you happen to know so much about Tony and Pepper?"

Romanoff turned her gaze away from a chunk of stone that resembled Florida to meet the man's gaze and reiterate what she'd said to him and the others (sans Stark) just the other day. "It was part of an undercover S.H.I.E.L.D. operation. Stark was dying due to the palladium poisoning from the reactor in his chest and I was sent in as Natalie Rushman to see if we couldn't keep an eye on him. With Pepper promoted to CEO I was instated as his assistant and from there I got a pretty decent vantage point of their relationship." An eyebrow twitched and Marble!Florida joined the pile. "He's just about as annoying now as he was then, but I have to admit that he's matured a bit. I'd say it's a result of him being involved with Pepper."

Bruce nodded, pivoting to better face her and offered a smile. "It's kind of funny, really, seeing as they're almost complete opposites."

Natasha smirked and voiced her agreement. "Honestly, I'm a bit surprised they're not married yet. They already have the old married couple act down. Granted, Tony Stark getting married ought to be filed under 'Not Very Likely to Happen,' but still."

"An elderly Tony Stark, can you imagine?" Bruce snickered. "The two of them sitting out on their front porch bickering at each other." He shook his head as the corner of his mouth pulled up farther. "Okay, the porch not so much, but the bickering I can definitely see."

"'This rocking chair makes my ass hurt!'" Natasha laughed, dropping her voice an octave in order to mock the sound of an older Tony Stark. "'Pepper, why did you get such terrible chairs!'"

The man's shoulder shook with a laugh before he joined in, raising his voice to match that of an elderly Pepper Potts. "'Well maybe you should have gone with me to pick them out instead of whining about it!'"

"'Well, maybe I'll just make a few adjustments!'"

"'Tch, Tony! You are _not_ going to attach rockets to your rocking chair!'" Bruce gave a mock frown.

Natasha folded her arms over her broom and pulled her mouth into a grimace, though there was still laughter in her eyes. "'Pepper! Attaching rockets would be awesome!'"

"'Attaching rockets to things is never a good idea!'"

"'Attaching rockets to things is always a good idea!'"

"'No it isn't! Just look at what happened to the toaster!'"

"'That was. . . '" Natasha/Old Man Tony paused, as if attempting to come up with an excuse. "'Not my fault!'"

Bruce had successfully dropped his broom he was laughing so hard. His comrade chuckled at the sight, a smile having fully manifested during their exchange and they both spent the next few minutes just laughing at themselves and bonding in their own, unique way. It was interesting, really, how they'd gone from pulling guns on each other and running around the Helicarrier roaring to making fun of the Potts-Stark ("It's called Pepperony!" "Shut up, Clint. You're interrupting the movie.") relationship in their later years and laughing hysterically about it.

Romanoff only found it funnier when Banner had to go lean against the bar to keep himself upright. God, he hadn't laughed like this in _ages_ and for the most part what they were laughing at wasn't even that funny. It was humorous sure, but side-splitting? Either way, he'd take what he could get and continue laughing his ass off if he had to.

Taking a breath, they came to stand next to one another, leaning upon the cool surface of the bar where Tony had offered Loki a drink, looking out at the room they had managed to clean most of as their mirth slowly dissipated. Bruce eyed his now cool mug of tea forlornly where he'd left it on the floor and Natasha wondered briefly if Clint had ended up rolling off of the couch yet.

"Well, that was. . .something,"

"Yeah."

They simply left it at that. No more remarks, no snickers, no quips or eye rolls, just a gentle quiet that they let settle around them as they went back to their sweeping in the early morning hours and in another room Clint Barton hit the floor with a _thud_. He remained unconscious and muttered something along the lines of Natasha needing to stop pushing him.

* * *

Pepper muttered something into Tony's mouth as he prolonged her departure for the umpteenth time and the Stark Industries flight attendants at LaGuardia Airport along with a few Stark assistants busied themselves with putting Pepper's luggage onto the private jet, boarding said jet or giving the runway a nice, good stare down as Tony carried on with keeping Pepper locked in his embrace and _do you _have_ to go_-ness.

"Tony," she managed before he kissed her again, slightly pressing her against the side of his car. He hummed something that she didn't catch and he didn't exactly give her the chance to reply.

Good god was she just happy that their former audience had decided to up and vanish on them. Now if her boyfriend would just let her leave on-time she'd be more than thankful.

But this _was_ Tony Stark, so she was a bit S.O.L. when it came to the whole on-time thing.

She managed to work hands onto his chest on either side of the arc reactor to give him a light shove in a valiant attempt to get him to let go. It worked, for the most part. Initially. In retaliation he just shifted his hands to her hips and planted another big one on her before pulling back and giving her his own rendition of The Look.

Damn, now she just felt bad.

Pepper groaned in exasperation, her head falling to the side as she regarded him and _those damn puppy eyes._ Not cool, Tony. Don't do that. You're a grown man, for god's sake.

"Tony," she said, forcing his name out through the teeth she was trying so hard not to grind. He seemed to perk up a bit at her saying his name and—dammit, Tony, stop it with that _look._ "I have to go."

He gave her a rather mischievous grin before trying to go in for the kill again. "Oh, I know—"

"No," Pepper cut in—a bit regretfully because now she felt bad and it wasn't that she didn't like kissing Tony but she seriously had to leave _now_ if she wanted to get to California at a decent hour and it was already four in the afternoon EST and prolonging this whole good-bye thing was just making her feel worse. It wasn't that she _wanted_ to go so much as she _had_ to, what with a few business deals and the like that needed to be dealt it was better that she got there sooner than later. And seeing as Tony wasn't about to jump at the chance to do something even closely resembling work. . .well. Let's just say that SI really need someone in charge to make an appearance soon.

With her hands planted against his chest she gently pushed him back again, trying not to flinch too much at the brief flash of hurt that flashed across his face at her pushing him away and refusing him.

She pulled a face and told herself not to feel guilty, dammit all. It was only for three days. They could do this. Never mind how Tony was rather. . .physically affectionate and they had a habitual means of showing one another their affection. Still. Three days. Not three years.

"Unless you want to come with me, you're going to have to let go, okay?"

He frowned at the idea of being dragged out to board meetings but his grip on her didn't loosen. Admittedly, the idea of heading off back home to Malibu with Pepper (and then it just being the two of them, uninterrupted) was fairly appealing. One eye shut and he shifted his mouth in thought as he flipped through his options and Pepper quirked an eyebrow at the sight.

"Okay, deal."

There was a pause in which she just stared at him.

A few beats passed and then Tony surrendered and offered her a look of defeat.

"Okay so, maybe not. Board meetings. . .Eh, never really been a big fan of them. Business deals? Yeah, those don't do much for me either. So, uh, have fun. Safe flight, happy travels, all that jazz. So. That should be. . .fun. Seems like your kind of fun. Not in a bad way, just. . .well, you don't seem to mind it too much, which I think it's weird, but whatever. To each their own, right?"

Pepper pulled a face and tried not to look too amused while Tony tried to back himself out of the corner he'd been walking into. She snickered before choosing to cut him off with a kiss to the tip of his nose. "Tony, you're rambling."

"I do that," he responded with a nod, something in him clearly happy that they'd gone from talking back to their previous engagement. As much fun as their bantering was. . .well. "It's a condition."

"Maybe you should get that checked," his girlfriend laughed, wrapping her arms around his shoulders in an attempt at a final hug before her departure.

"Probably should. But I've had it for decades so it'll be a bit difficult to part ways with now."

"Hmm," Pepper hummed, giving him one last peck and then pulling away, mildly surprised when he actually let her go this time. "Be safe, okay? Try not to destroy the Tower anymore than it already is, don't set things on fire or break everything and keep an eye on the others, would you? And don't kill our cactus."

Stark rolled his eyes at her request, waving a hand to brush it off as if it was nothing as the Relationship Cactus made its appearance again. "How do you even kill a cactus? Pfft. Pep, please, when have I _ever_ been anything but safe?" Pepper just gave him a look. "Okay, don't answer that. But seriously, breaking everything? Come on."

He shrugged.

"Okay, so the thing with the vase. Not my. . .Okay, so that was kinda. . .my fault. But I didn't think he'd actually do it, so you can't totally pin that on me," He unconsciously found himself reaching for her again, bracing his hand on the small of her back as he walked with her toward the jet (he still wasn't really allowed in the kitchen and there were still traces of the 'omlette' he'd once tried to make just about. . .everywhere.) "And besides, looking after these guys? We're lucky if Barton doesn't shoot someone in the ass and Thor doesn't smash a hole in the wall because JARVIS is talking to him. At the rate we're going Rogers'll probably get himself frozen again. Bruce can hold his own and as for Romanoff. . .well, if she kills me in my sleep then that would suck. Maybe you'd feel bad for abandoning me with these people."

"Clint's not going to shoot you in the ass," Pepper huffed, offering the man beside her a long suffering sigh and giving him the same look that she had when 'Natalie Rushman' had first been hired (and, uh, beat the crap out of Happy).

Tony sniffed (wait a minute, now she was on a first name basis with Barton too?). "You don't know that. And now when he does you'll feel bad."

"Maybe I will," she conceded as they came to the bottom of the ramp and turned back to face him for a final farewell. "I'll come visit you and your poor ass in the hospital everyday."

"Me and my poor ass appreciate it," Tony snickered.

Thankfully, their exchange was more or less left at that, with him trying to kiss her again her saying that she'd call when got to California and that she'd check on Butterfingers and Dummy and _Tony seriously, don't worry about it I'm sure they're fine, okay? I have to go._

He offered her one last wink before sliding back into his car and valiantly fighting his way through New York City traffic back to Stark Tower where he'd ditched the others (and ignored any calls he'd been getting from them or S.H.I.E.L.D.) for a few hours of uninterrupted Tony-Pepper moments ("I said it's called Pepperony! Why doesn't anyone listen!" "God dammit, Clint, _shut up!_") that they hadn't exactly been getting for the past few days.).

It wasn't until he'd parked his car that Tony realized that any wishes for the next three days to pass by smoothly were made in vain.

* * *

At this point Bruce figured he should be used to people just coming out of nowhere and nose-diving onto couches. Tony Stark was no different from Clint Barton in that sense, seeing as he plummeted over the back of one just as Clint had, only he didn't have Natasha Romanoff to land on and he grunted as he cracked his head against the armrest.

His Science Bro glanced up from the newspaper he'd been skimming through to regard his friend with mild interest.

"Gone for two hours and you're moping already?"

"'M not moping," Stark muttered, his words muffled by the couch cushion he was speaking through. Bruce snickered. "'M taking a nap. Tired."

"Looks like moping to me," The other man muttered before he sat back in his chair with a fake air of disinterest and spoke with sarcasm, "As yes, wandering around your penthouse aimlessly and watching Jurassic Park is very exhausting. You have my condolences."

"Ha ha, your condolences have been accepted and duly filed under the 'Clearly Bruce Does Not Give a Shit' folder. Thank you for your consideration."

"Any time," Bruce dead-panned, going back to reading an article about the Avengers saving New York and Iron Man falling from the sky. He about to remark on the story when Tony made a comment about the cushion smelling like ass and he really didn't know how to respond to that.

That said, the two sat in relative silence for a bit, one dozing in the early evening hours and the other flipping through the latest edition of The Daily Bugle—despite Tony having told him not to read it and calling it complete trash because all the Editor in Chief did was rag on everybody—and generally enjoying the current inactivity that gave them some time to themselves and their own thoughts.

Of course, that peaceful quiet was short lived, cut off in its prime when Tony rolled over in order to pull his face out of ass-smelling cushion and his expression morphed into a frown as he stared at the ceiling above him. Bruce hardly glanced up over the edge of his glasses before going back to his reading.

"Hey, Banner," the innovator started, successfully capturing the other man's attention with an undertone of _and you wanted to read?_ as the latter he folded his paper back into shape and set it across his knees. "I was just thinking—well, I've been thinking for a while, really, but. . ." he paused for a second and pulled a face, also making note that one of the things he really liked about Bruce Banner was the fact that he didn't rush people. Gave them a chance to put their thoughts together instead of the whole 'Come-On-I-Don't-Have-All-Day' approach that Tony himself had.

"Yeah?" he supplied after a moment of nothing, trying to see if he could probe a bit more information from the man slumped across the couch. (For a split second Bruce amused himself with the notion of going "And how does that make you feel?" before deciding against it.)

"Yeah, uh. . ." Tony cleared his throat, keeping his eyes on the ceiling and his mind from wandering back to the scene Bruce had walked into the day before. Then again, that last bit was a bit difficult, seeing as: "Look, I was just thinking of maybe asking Pepper if she, maybe, I dunno—"

Whatever he'd been about to say was promptly cut off when he promptly sat up and the two Avengers exchanged a look with "What's that smell?" just before Steve came tearing in from the general direction of the kitchen they all shared, skidding to a stop right before them and pausing before giving Stark a wary,

"Um, you have a fire extinguisher somewhere, right?"


	15. Chapter Fifteen

**A/N: **I don't know what to do with you people.  
Also, the fact that so many of you are following this is astounding and almost unnerving. Like my entire thought process before posting the next chapter more or less consists of 'ok who are we gonna piss off today' and something along the lines of sticking my hand in an electrical socket.  
—This is why I shouldn't be writing these notes at five in the morning and dead inside because my feels are shot. (friggin' IRON MAN 3 TRAILER. I'm done.)

But can I just say that you're all fantastic? And a quick shout-out to that one Guest—thank you for catching that typo in an earlier chapter! I'm pretty sure I saw it before but apparently didn't think enough to go back and fix it, haha. But thank you!  
Seriously though. How do you guys let me get away with butchering the English language like that? I mean does the fact that I don't know grammar amuse you. I mean I love you all anyway but really I feel like there are some standards I'm not fully meeting. /okay ignore me now.

Mother of god what is writing. Let me get this out of the way now and admit that I really don't like this chapter. But I feel bad enough as it is making you guys wait a month and you've all been awesome and everything And I just...despise this chapter with every fiber of my being. I think this one's a bit more of a filler just because I really wanted to get to the next one and decided against attempting to shove it into this one. I don't know, I'm sorry. (I mean, I kinda like the end, but...?) But thank you guys all so much for the wait! Hopefully next time won't be as long because I actually know what I'm doing in that one. Go figure.

tl;dr—my face this entire chapter: ಠ_ಠ  
why do you people let me do this.

* * *

_Strawberries & Shawarma_  
—Chapter Fifteen:

"How bad is it?"  
"That's the problem, sir. We don't know."  
—_Nick Fury & Agent Phil Coulson  
_

* * *

Only a few short hours after Pepper's departure and it was more than obvious that the Avengers just couldn't have nice things.

In all honesty, Tony had been expecting to find a raging inferno judging from how antsy Steve had been, and needless to say, he'd been non too amused to rush into the kitchen with his Science Bro on his heels to find Thor and Clint more or less flailing around a smoking toaster in some sort of deformed tribal dance. (Well, unplugging it and trying to keep the smoker detector from coming to life, more like.)

The remnants of burnt Pop-Tart bits had been dumped unceremoniously on the counter where Tony was left to glower at them and Thor at least had the nerve to look somewhat sheepish.

Natasha just sat back with her mug of coffee and smirked into the ceramic while Steve mentally reprimanded himself for having overreacted when the toaster had started smoking, but he figured it was better to be safe than sorry. Plus, there had been tiny hints of flames and throwing the appliance out of the window wouldn't have solved anything. (With all due respect, knowing these people a fire extinguisher probably should have been kept on hand at all times. Seriously. They had three days and Pepper had told them not to burn the place down. They were off to a brilliant start already.)

Thor's initial solution had been to try to throw it into the sink, although Clint had just barely managed to stop the god from making the problem worse. Tony was just about to let him in order for him to lean his lesson and in the back of his mind Pepper told him to stop being an ass.

It also didn't help when Thor admitted to having considered maybe using a fork to pry the burning Pop-Tarts out of a plugged in toaster that was on. As amusing as the sight could have been, Tony nor the rest of the team really had the desire to watch Thor get himself electrocuted during a showdown between the God of Thunder and the Toaster. Death wasn't exactly going to be something that they were going to shoot for on a daily basis. (The Toaster used Bolt! It's not very effective. . .)

Needless to say, The List of Those Who Are Sure As Hell Not Allowed In The Kitchen (Alone, At Least) now consisted of both Tony and Thor.

However, just because Thor and Tony weren't allowed in the kitchen didn't mean that the same went for everyone else—like Bruce.

"Is this what it's like to die," Clint muttered at dinner an hour after the Pop-Tart Incident, stuffed and leaning back in his chair, looking for all the world like his life had just passed before his eyes. So long nights of Easy Mac and take out; Bruce Banner, Master Chef (or, to Clint, a.k.a. a _god_) was in the house. The good doctor of science just gave a contented, bemused smile.

"I don't know what this is but it's delicious," Tony stated before shoveling in another mouthful. Steve upstaged his host's social grace of a dying elephant by at least not talking with his mouth full. Thor was just going with it because it was food.

"Pad Thai," Natasha managed before spearing another shrimp with her fork. Steve had initially poked at his plate so as not to be rude, but he honestly didn't know how to proceed. These people were just throwing these exotic foods at him that he'd never heard of and he was just going along with it because he was hungry—curious and a bit wary, but still hungry. He'd taken all of two bites and it took all of his self-restraint to pull a Thor (who was finished with his second helping by the time most of the others had made it halfway through their first) and shove his face right on into it.

Despite their mannerisms, the team was more or less floored by the dinner that Bruce had made, Stark declaring him thereby in-charge of culinary duties around a mouthful of rice noodles and ground peanuts. Everyone else, still amazed by the cooking skills they hadn't realized he possessed, didn't hesitate to second the notion. Banner hardly suppressed the urge to laugh and go 'ah ha ha _peasants_' before jokingly offering to whip them all up some shawarma some night.

Stark snickered only to have Clint glower at him.

"Try shawarma, you said," he muttered, not bothering to hide his general distaste for the dinner they'd shared following the battle with the Chitauri. (His dislike might as well have been due to the fact that he'd been exhausted and his taste buds were shot. Also, he'd been picking at Natasha's food rather than his own and she'd smothered it in hot sauce. He hadn't noticed until Bruce'd said something and by that point his mouth was burning.) "It'll be fun, you said."

Tony went to return the snark when the lone woman in the room stepped in in order to avoid a headache. "Kids, play nice. You can stab each other after dinner."

The man's grin faded into a frown and he turned to face the archer who was mirroring his expression.

"Wait, I'm stabbing you now? I thought I was just being sassy."

"You're stabbing me? That's harassment. I don't appreciate harassment." Tony gestured at him with his fork. "I mean, I'll stab you right back, but I sort of assumed that we all had a unanimous 'No death threats at the table' agreement going."

Clint made a face at him before turning to his partner. "Do you see what you've started?" He glanced at the others, waving his hand between them. "Do you people see this?"

There was a moment of silence that otherwise consisted of Steve taking a bite of his dinner so that he didn't have to say anything and Thor chose to stay out of it because he didn't particularly want to get stabbed either. No one else said anything for a bit and let Tony and Clint verbally go at it for a short while longer—mostly because they were too busy eating because _oh my god, Banner, this is delicious _and_ Thor don't you even thinking of throwing your plate on the floor and shouting "Another!"_—and after a few minutes it was the chef himself that cut in, seeing as this was meant to be a nice, peaceful meal, god dammit.

"Just shut up and eat your dinner or you're both going in the corner."

* * *

Seven hours later the kitchen still smelled faintly of smoke and Tony thought he was going to vomit up the heaps of Pad Thai in his stomach as he stomped his way to his bedroom.

He'd made it over the threshold and closed the door behind him when this feeling suddenly hit him and he paused.

It was just. . .weird. If he was perfectly honest he'd been expecting either a) to find Pepper asleep in their bed or b) sitting there with her laptop open, typing away at some e-mails and c) telling him that it was about time he got to bed.

It took a minute for him to remember that she was off on the other side of the country and when he did he simply shut the door and dragged himself to his bed, exhausted. The pillow muffled his grunt when he hit the covers, and he would have presumably lost consciousness within the next thirty seconds if it hadn't been for him stretching out and smacking his nightstand, effectively knocking everything off of it and onto the floor. He muttered a curse into the cushion beneath his head before eventually deciding to roll over just to make sure that he hadn't broken anything.

Of the few things that had been on said nightstand—the tablet he liked to poke at sometimes as he explored some of the ideas that he had for the next suit ("Oh my god, playing Cut the Rope does not count as doing work, Tony."), along with the alarm clock that was there for show more so than anything (Pepper Potts practically rose at the crack of dawn, so long as her boyfriend didn't keep her up until three in the morning and wasn't much one for sleeping in)—the only thing that really caught his attention was his phone, mainly due to the fact that it was busy trying to show him that he had two unread texts from the woman that had told him not to set their apartment on fire.

Hanging off the side of the bed Tony immersed himself in scrolling through his messages, one having been sent earlier that evening to inform him that she'd successfully touched down in California without any complications and another that had been sent not even ten minutes ago, telling him that _There is cat on my front step with a dead squirrel. What am I supposed to do with this._

In their relationship there were few stipulations, including, but not limited to, monogamy, communication, not setting things on fire and Pepper maintaining her apartment that was hardly half an hour's drive from Tony's Malibu home. It hadn't been one of the aspects of their relationship that he'd been behind one-hundred percent, but Pepper had been adamant, saying that she ought to have been allowed to keep something she'd worked for and moving in with him immediately would have been rushing things a bit too much.

That had been a few months ago, and she'd hardly visited the place since. If anything her nearly abandoned apartment could be seen as a retreat of sorts—if Tony got to be too intense for her to handle or she simply needed to blow off some steam, Pepper had a place she could turn to that wasn't the guest room. As such, Tony had maybe seen the place all of four times since that started this whole relationship business and during each of his visits he'd occupied his time by going through her things and trying to memorize almost every single detail of her lifestyle as he raided the fridge. ("Tony! Stop eating everything!" "Pepper I am a man! I need food!")

And so, tired as he was, the man figured he could amuse himself until he fell asleep by adding in his two cents. _Sounds like a fantastic homecoming. I don't know how I'm going to top that when you get back._

A few minutes passed with no response from the woman, and Tony figured he could just as well go to bed then when his phone went off._  
_

_Having to engage the cat in hand-to-hand combat isn't exactly high on my list of priorities. Also, the cat just spat the squirrel on my step. It just left it there. Thanks, cat._

_Clearly someone's jet-lagged._ He snickered, sending his response and making no effort to stifle an obnoxious yawn as he did so. There was a pause before he sent her another to grow on. _Or maybe you're just getting old and senile and yelling at cats just to pass the time. I worry about you._

_You're hilarious, Tony. Although it is kind of sad that it's just barely past 10:30 here and I'm exhausted. How're the others, by the way? No serious injuries since I left, I hope. And you haven't killed our cactus yet, right?  
_

"Uh," Tony managed to choke out into the empty room. Thankfully the fact that she wasn't there sitting next to him meant that he had a minute or two to think of an adequate reply that didn't put him in too deep a hole. In the meantime he glanced over to Pepper's dresser/vanity. . .thing to where Clint's unorthodox gift sat staring at him. The Relationship Cactus was just judging him; he knew it.

_Well, Barton almost shot me in the ass, Banner's still missing an eyebrow and Thor accidentally punched Capsicle's head off. The Russian just kinda sat in the corner and laughed maniacally._

Alrighty, Pepper was either going too go along with it, laugh, or tell him to shut up and go to sleep already. Tony was just kind of hoping that she wouldn't call him and be all what-the-hell-do-you-think-you're-funny-or-something and then call him a moron and tell him to go to bed. Even if he was texting her half-asleep. He'd just yawned into his pillow and began dozing when his phone went off again.

_You had one job._

He wasn't sure whether to laugh or frown or take the 'Pepper, it's one in the morning' route and pass out on her, ending the conversation there.

_I have to say, you're taking this remarkably well. Should we talk about this? I feel like we should talk about this. How does that make you feel? Anxious? Worried? Other more...interesting feelings that spurn every time we're in a room alone together?_

_Good night, Tony._

Stark's laugh dissolved into a snore.

Three hours later he would roll over to find his phone pressed to his cheek and awake to find a message from Pepper indicating that she hadn't been able to spend the night in her own apartment, and he would smirk at the brief little sentiment she'd sent him:

_Your pillow smells like you._

* * *

As far as he knew, most of the other Avengers were light sleepers and Clint Barton was still wandering down the corridor at three in the morning and snickering to himself.

And by 'snickering' he was more or less chomping down on the inside of his cheek to keep from going into hysterics because of the idea running through his head at that very moment. Don't let anyone call Clint Francis Barton a dumb-ass by any means—the man could be an evil little genius when he very well wanted to.

He paused at the end of the hall just long enough to recall where the elevator, giving the area a quick once-over in order to make sure that he hadn't been followed and no one else was around to oversee/hear what he was about to do. Satisfied with his precautionary measure, the archer took a breath and a spoke in a harsh whisper,

"Hey JARVIS, right?"

To his credit, only Clint's shoulder twitched instead of jumping and readying his weapon like he had the first time the AI had addressed him.

"Yes, Agent Barton?"came JARVIS' smooth reply, the computer having dropped its tone to a lower volume in an effort to match the man's and generally comply with the I-don't-want-someone-to-know-what-I'm-up-to air that he was giving off almost in waves at the moment. "Is there something I might assist you with?"

If anything, Clint felt like he—or was it 'It?'—was almost all too willing to be an accomplice to the various little schemes he was plotting out for a certain someone. At least judging from the way JARVIS sounded amused and stuff like that. Could an AI be amused? Who knew. Unless this was going to turn out like _Terminator,_ in which case he figured they should probably part ways now unless he wanted to be caught in the cross hairs and—okay, Clint, it's three a.m. At least pretend to focus.

A cough sounded from the general direction of what he assumed to be Steve's room and Hawkeye froze. Neither he nor Tony's computerized butler said anything for a beat and he waited another handful of seconds before speaking to the ceiling again and not even bothering to fight the grin that broke out across his features.

"There's a couple of things I need you to help me find. . ."

* * *

If he was honest with himself, the idea that he wasn't really allowed in the kitchen amused Thor.

Because really, it had been one of the moments where the initial reaction was shock and fear and then only later on would one look back on it and laugh.

Well, Clint had. Natasha had punched him in the arm to shut him up. Bruce had just stepped to the side and snickered to himself while Steve dug around on the sink for a fire extinguisher and Tony had just unplugged the toaster. But that had been yesterday evening and there were more important matters to focus on.

Such as the fact that Thor was currently in the kitchen. With a full pot of coffee that he'd managed to make without too much incident. By himself. Alone.

Thor, Prince of Asgard, the Thunderer, etc. Breaking all the rules, one cup of caffeine at a time.

As such, he was rather enjoying himself and watching the sun begin rise over the Manhattan skyline in the predawn hours while the rest of his team slept and he was given sometime to his own thoughts. While he was well aware of the fact that he could have very well gone back to bed for a few more hours and then risen with the others, he really saw no harm in him being in the kitchen and weighing the options he had when it came to making them breakfast. Because what better way to apologize for nearly setting Stark's penthouse ablaze than by making them all heaping plates of bacon and—what were they called again—pancakes?

. . .'Tried' to make them pancakes, more like. At least he'd had the decency to try to clean up after himself. Surely Miss Potts herself would be able to appreciate that, too.

With a mighty sigh Thor set his mug down upon the breakfast bar before taking a seat at it and propping his forehead up in his hand. It wasn't so much that he'd risen early just for kicks, but rather he'd found little comfort in these dreams of his, plagued by thoughts of destruction he'd hardly been able to cease, his brother, Loki, with whom he now shared so little, and the image of a young woman immersing herself in stars and a rainbow bridge she'd been working so desperately hard to find.

He wondered what Jane was doing right then.

Before he could expand further on that thought, the sound of footsteps caught his attention, and Thor turned his gaze away from the expanse of windows just in time to find Bruce shuffling into the kitchen and yawning into the back of his hand.

"Morning," the scientist supplied after he was done, earning a grin from the blond god. "What brings you here so early in the morning? From what I gathered from Agent Roman—uh, Natasha, you sleep like the dead."

Thor's grin flickered into a frown, not fully understand what was clearly meant as humor. Still, he just went along with it. "I have decided to go against the household wishes and seat myself in the kitchen, despite what the others may say. I'm rebelling."

Having made his way to the cupboard he knew the teabags to be in—he still had no idea how Tony knew to buy which kind he liked, but he liked to think Pepper had had something to do with it—Bruce paused with his hand on the handle and merely started laughing.

"Sticking it to the man, huh? More power to you,"

He still didn't really get it, but the Asgardian chuckled and continued rolling with it. "Indeed. I've decided to stick many things to this. . .man of yours. He has proven quite adhesive."

Banner snickered again, reaching into another cupboard for a mug and prepping his tea and all the while politely ignoring the sticky bits of what looked like attempts at pancake batter dotting the counter top. The two men exchanged little more conversation as the one began heating water for his tea and the other just hoping that he wouldn't notice something amiss.

"Uh," Bruce was in mid-stretch when he paused and frowned, his gaze on the plaster over their heads.

Thor folded his gaze, clearly his throat and shifting around on his stool. He gave a weak chuckle in an attempt to find humor in the situation while his comrade's arms returned to his sides. "I know what you're about to say and I would rather you simply. . .didn't question it."

There was little sound in the room save for water running over and Thor tapping his fingers on the counter top almost nervously. After a bit Bruce finally turned to face him, and when he did his expression was impressively blank.

"Why is there bacon on the ceiling?"


	16. Chapter Sixteen

**A/N: **Aw yiss, chapter sixteen.  
I think the main reason I disliked the last chapter so much was because it was pretty much a filler and I felt bad because it had taken me a month to get it posted.  
and then you can all start with some Clintasha.  
because for NaNoWriMo I'm going to attempt that Clint/Natasha story I've been plotting. Even though now I feel like I can't write them as fluidly as I'd like to.  
but still. have another pairing.  
oh my god my notes make no sense. Like someone should punch me in the head and tell me not to spend so much time on tumblr even though I probably won't listen to you anyway because oh my gosh guys all of the feels.

ALSO GUYS PLEASE, please go check out _FishyIcon_ for me, okay. She wrote a story as a birthday present and it's set between chapters 11 and 12 of this story and oh my god I was crying. because all of the feelings and mother of god you people are too good to me. How do I have friends. But guys she wrote _'Strawberries & Shawarma Coda: Motrin'_ and and I can't. ;-;

And can I just say that it's almost unnerving how many of you are reading this. I mean, you guys have no idea how much I appreciate it and your kind words always manage to make my day but really! I'm always afraid that I'm going to end up screwing something up down along the line and let you guys down. Hopefully that won't happen and we can all continue to get along and stuff like that. Really though, I want to say thank you. To each and everyone of you. Even if we've never got a chance to talk to one another, I want to say thank you.

Annnnnnd yet another incoherent note. Let's move onto the chapter. Thanks, guys!  
Okay, have fun.

* * *

_Strawberries & Shawarma_  
—Chapter Sixteen:

"You put those people together, you can't expect what's going to happen. . ."  
—_Maria Hill  
_

* * *

Clint's head snapped to the side just as Natasha's fist brushed past his nose. He muttered a quick curse before ducking under her arm, grasping her wrist with one hand and lightly pressing against the back of her elbow with his other.

"And _pop,_" he chuckled, fully aware of her eye-roll she was giving as she twisted out of his grip, making sure to give him a firm smack to the gut for his efforts. Clint maintained his smirk as he slid back into a fighting stance and waited for his partner to assume the same pose. Natasha whirled around in front of him, lithe body bent just so and fists clenched tightly at her sides, mirroring his expression. She rolled her shoulders as he cracked his knuckles with a certain degree of exaggeration.

"Best two out of three?"

The archer winked, tongue darting out to wet his lips as he centered himself. "It's like you read my mind, sugar."

"When we were first partnered together it was kind of cute," Natasha rolled her eyes before narrowing at them with an amused shake of her head. "Now it's just weird."

Gasping theatrically the man's stance wavered as a giant grin broke out across his features. The woman opposite him let out a long-suffering sigh as he carried on, all the while keeping a sharp eye on the way his footing shifted and he looked all the world like a child whose mother had just promised him a puppy for Christmas (or, in Clint's case, a whole new quiver of countless arrows that he could customize. Or an uncut version of _The Godfather_. The man wasn't really that hard to buy gifts for. She could have just given him a brick with a face painted on it and he'd be happy.)

"I'm cute, I'm cute! She said I'm cu—_yoowt._"

His back slammed against the padded floor of the recreation room and he grunted, closing his eyes in order to combat the nasty feeling of having had the wind knocked out of him. Natasha chuckled from somewhere above him, her shoulder digging into his solar plexus she pressed her forehead into the hollow in his collarbone.

"Pinned ya," she laughed before pulling away. Barton opened his eyes in time to meet her bemused gaze from where she sat straddling him and smirking about it. "I thought rule number one was to not let your opponent distract you."

Clint's face was still contorted into a grimace as he stared at her. "And I thought rule number two was to not knee me in the nuts."

Her brow quirked as she rolled off of him, reaching down to help yank him off the floor. It took him a moment before he reached up to take it and he gave a slight tug in attempt to pull her onto the ground with him, and in response she gave a startled gasp as she nearly toppled off.

Of course, Natasha waited until Clint had gotten onto the balls of his feet and then into a standing position before she tripped him and knocked him onto his butt once more.

"Pinned ya again," she said with something akin to a playful snarl.

Hawkeye wheezed a snicker at her intentional Disney reference, arm winding loosely around her waist. He waited until Natasha had her hands braced on his shoulders and was starting to sit up again that he made his move. Noting the familiar mischievous glint in his eyes her own narrowed into a wary glare and in the back of her mind told herself that she'd best brace for impact.

"Clint, what do you think you're—"

The remainder of her question was cut off by the sharp intake of breath that she took when her partner suddenly flipped them, shifting his weight just enough to pin her down without crushing her. Taking advantage at her initial shock, Clint quickly snatched one of her wrists, holding it above her head and planting her free one between her hip and his knee.

Natasha glowered at her wall opposite her, carefully plotting her next move as the padded floor mashed into the side of her face. She could feel Barton's breath on her cheek as he snorted at their positions and her brief struggles in an attempt to get him off of her. He simply continued to laugh and hold her wrist a bit higher, stretching out her arm and leaning in a bit closer, shifting his other hand so that it was planting firmly beside her face and giving her a nice view of his wrist and the scar running alongside it. He'd been about to say something when she suddenly jerked her head and wrenched her other arm out from where it had been trapped against her side.

It wasn't really a kiss so much as it was them bashing their faces together.

She placed her hand against his shoulder in preparation to shove him—kneeing him in between the legs was only a last resort and even then she highly doubted she'd actually be able to do it, even though sometimes she liked to hold that threat over him—but instead she found herself grabbing a fistful on the grey tee shirt that was slightly dampened with perspiration and holding him where he was, both S.H.I.E.L.D. operatives posed in momentary paralysis as kissed her back.

And so they remained where they were for the next twelve seconds (he'd been counting and wow that felt like a really long time) before Barton suddenly jerked away, releasing his grip on Natasha and hurrying to his feet in a manner that wasn't short of ungraceful. He averted his gaze as he offered his hand to help her stand similar to the way she had not even five minutes ago, even as the back of his neck burned with a light dusting of pink.

"Well," he choked out once Natasha was upright and beside him. "That, ah, escalated quickly."

There was a pause while she swallowed and tried to think of something to say. "Right."

He nodded, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye and forcing a chuckle.

"So this is. . ."

". . .Awkward?" she shifted her stance briefly, gauging his reaction and waiting to see what he'd do next.

"Uh, yeah," he heaved a breath, reaching up to scratch the back of his head and generally keeping his eyes focused on anything that wasn't her own. "I, uh, I guess. Yeah."

Realizing that Clint wasn't about to take the initiative here and that mentioning that this instance perhaps wasn't all that different than certain things that had transpired in Budapest presumably wasn't the best plan of attack, Natasha simply steeled her resolve, gave an audible exhale and tried in vain to focus on something else.

"I'm going to go hit the showers."

It took a second for her statement to register and when it finally did she'd already made it to the door. He gave a meek grunt in response as the door shut behind her and was left alone with the imprint of her hand on his shoulder.

"Tasha, I didn't mean. . ." he let out a puff of air, running a hand through his short hair and honestly unsure of how to proceed. "Four for you, Clint Barton. You go, Clint Barton."

* * *

To put it mildly, the people he'd found himself rooming with for the past couple of days amused Bruce Banner.

While he may not exactly have been one to seek out large gatherings of people, he wasn't so much of a loner that he went out of his way to avoid said people at any cost. If he could help it. If anything, he found himself rather content and comfortable with the sudden companionship that the Avengers brought and as such had yet to fully consider attempting to slip away in the dead of night, though he had been weighing his options along with the pros and cons of doing so.

It wasn't that he didn't like these people by any means, but rather he'd grown accustomed to having been on his own for so long that abruptly being surrounded by half a dozen people who _didn't_ have guns trained on him had seriously thrown him for a loop at first. Then again, the S.H.E.I.L.D. Helicarrier and its patented Hulk containment unit (that would only be used if necessary, mind you) along with its wary staff hadn't exactly made the best first impression, in his humble opinion.

In all honesty, the only person on the entire craft that he'd been vaguely at ease with had been Tony, and even then he'd held him at army's length, not too fond of how much the other man had been a bit too interested in what Bruce had deemed a curse and intent on provoking it.

That said, it didn't really help matters much that Dr. Banner was currently staring down at Stark, the latter stretched out in one of the many God of Mischief-shaped indentations on his floor, courtesy of Bruce's so-called 'gift.'

"Huh," was all the other man said, laying on the floor with his arms crossed at the ankles and hands clasped atop his arc reactor. Thor would have initially mistaken him for a recently deceased man had it not been for the constant shifting of his body as he moved about in the rubble.

Steve shot a glance at the Thunderer before kicking at a small hunk of marble and sending it skittering toward the pile that the clean-up crew that had consisted of Bruce and Natasha had been putting together. Bruce simply stood ideally off to the side and hardly fought against the small smirk tugging at his lips as Clint sauntered back over to them after he'd had his fill of studying one of the other Loki impressions on the floor.

If Bruce wasn't mistaken, the man had been acting strangely ever since he'd rejoined them after his workout session with Agent Romanoff. When questioned as to her whereabouts he'd been rather vague, simply saying that she'd gone off to take a shower and Tony had clearly lacked the self-restraint to keep from asking him why he'd hadn't joined her. (Steve had promptly glared at him and said glare threatened to smack Tony upside the head.)

The Hawk was already treading on marginally thinning ice with Stark at the moment as a result of almost having nailed Pepper in the head with one of his signature arrows and those stupid strawberries, and as a result made sure to stand a few feet away before he made his jest.

"You vertically challenged, Stark?"

Bruce managed a quiet chortle when Tony managed to force himself into an upright position to glower at the other man. Steve bit the inside of his lip to muffle his laugh as well.

One could say and do a lot of things while in the presence of Anthony Stark, but damn whoever made any height jokes. He wasn't necessarily short, per say, Captain America and the Prince of Thunder weren't exactly making things easy on him.

"Wanna see just how well the Hawk can fly?"

Barton would have made some snappy comeback but decided against it at the look Rogers shot him and tried and failed miserably not to think of what had transpired between him and Natasha back in the training room. He just mumbled something in response, choosing to be nosy instead and wander over to the bar to see what Stark had to offer while Thor bent forward and extended a hand toward his comrade.

Steve had just about two seconds to move before Tony went skidding by, stumbling past with him with an "oh, Jesus" as the god gave a bit too hard of a tug and nearly sent the man that had previously been on the floor into the far wall.

With a sigh Bruce decided that it was time for him to step in before someone either broke something else, died, or fell out a window (most of which were still broken)—not necessarily in that order. Ignoring whatever remark Tony was making about Point Break having a mean swing, the good doctor instead strolled over to where Clint was comparing two different bottles of Scotch, Steve following obediently on his heels for lack of anything better to do.

It was Barton's sudden outburst that had him pausing mid-stride as Captain America skirted by him, the former offering a brief apology for stopping short while Thor and Stark got into some discussion about to comparison of Asgardian mead and Midgardian alcohol.

"Oh man, this is the good stuff," Clint's interruption came none too soon, pulling the attention two men on the other side of the room back to the bar.

Steve was giving Hawkeye a disparaging look as the latter showed off his latest find, either uncomfortable with the memory of a different bar and what felt like only a short while rather than decades ago, or because he simply had no desire to see any one of the men he was with knock back a few too many and destroy the Tower any further.

If from what Pepper had told him during their brief adventure before lunch the other day was any indication, alcohol was probably one of the last things Tony needed in his system.

And so while he zoned out and recalled the few hours someone had actually bothered to try to make him comfortable with this new lifestyle Steve completely missed the segue in the conversation that had gone from Thor investigating what sorts of said 'mead and ale' that the Man of Iron had to offer and:

"I _will_ throw you out the window," Tony ground out, practically forcing each syllable through his teeth. Thor looked amused, Bruce was rolling in his with a similar expression as he found himself standing in a broken room full of idiots and in the meantime Barton had taken the opportunity to hop up onto the bar and drop into a crouch on top of it with his arms tucked into his sides.

Steve wasn't sure how to interpret the situation and instead chose to take note of the footsteps he could hear hurrying down the hallway. He may not have been aware of what was going on, but the owner of the feet (Natasha, he could tell. . . .well that, and she was also the only one not in the room) seemed none too thrilled at the moment and he figured he might as well offer them all a warning. "Ah, guys—"

"Oh yeah?" Clint cut in, a grin yanking at the corner of his mouth as he appeared to have relaxed back into the state he'd been in before his sparring session with Natasha. "Caw caw motherfu—"

"_STARK!_"

The rest of Hawkeye's expletive was interrupted by the sudden appearance of Natasha and Tony's back went rigged at her angry use of his surname. The other three men in the room were staring at Romanoff with muted shock and driven by curiosity as to why the lot of them were so speechless Clint turned to face her, chuckling.

"Ho ho _ho-ly shit_,"

To her credit Natasha was doing what she could to keep her breathing even as her nostrils flared and she looked just about ready to kill someone—that someone presumably being Tony, judging from the way she was glaring daggers at him and was striding toward him. She was carefully calculating ways to go about causing him immense amounts of pain without actually killing him because the last thing Pepper needed was to come home to find her boyfriend dead on the floor because he was a moronic ass.

She stopped just in front him and even Steve found himself taking a few steps back form the deadly assassin. Clint was busy making a quiet keening noise from where he sat atop the bar.

Tony was the first to say something.

"Your hair is pink."

"_You think?_" Natasha hissed, her voice practically dripping venom. Iron Man was about to say something in defense, but he never got the chance to when her arm suddenly decided to wrap itself around his throat and hold him in a choke hold. Clint was still making an inhuman noise while Tony joined him. His assailant was muttering in Russian—a whole string of curses that Barton had learned from her over the years and for the life of him would not repeat unless he felt like swapping out toothpaste for soap—and was busy making choking sounds as she constricted his windpipe.

Steve shot a glance at Bruce, who mirrored his anxious look of _um, should we do something? _Clint remained on his perch and Thor took it upon himself to wrench the Black Widow off of Tony, hoisting her up into the air even as struggled and kicked, her would-be victim falling to the floor and hacking, muttering how women were going to be the death of him and wheezing out—

"What the hell did _I_ do?"

With an annoyed huff, Romanoff blew a stray lock of recently dyed hair out of her eyes in order to reward him with a heated glare. Thankfully it wasn't too gaudy a shade—it wasn't like it was hot pink or anything like that but her hair was still damp, making it difficult to make out the extent of the damage. Clint gnawed his lip under the sidelong glance from Bruce as he attempted prank started to come around and bite him in the butt.

"You! You—!"

Tony held a hand against his neck and inched away from the angry former redhead. Steve was the one to help hoist him back to his feet while Bruce kept an eyed white-faced, deer-caught-in-the-headlights Clint who looked about ready to fall off the bar. Their host put a stool between him, the God of Thunder and the murderous Black Widow.

"Wait a minute, you think _I_ did this?" he asked not without sounding indignant and perhaps more than just a little insulted. "You think I _have_ a death wish, Romanoff?"

Her response was to stop flailing in Thor's grip and clench her jaw, hiding her growing annoyance behind an impassive mask and an icy voice full of venom.

"Thor, please put me down."

There was a moment of silence as the men in the exchanged what might as well have been seen as a fearful look before the Asgardian slowly set her back onto her own two feet. Tony and Thor made sure to take a few steps back least she lash out toward one of them. Instead, she simply stood up straight, tucked a few strands of discolored hair behind her ear and carefully made eye contact with each one of them in order to find the culprit. Her gaze lingered on Clint for a moment longer than the others and he did his damnedest not to betray anything.

"Excuse me," with that, she strode out of the battered room, presumably back from whence she came to plot her revenge.

Stark waited until he was sure she was out of hearing range to whirl around and face Barton.

"You son of a bitch."

Clint made a whining noise before sliding onto the floor.

* * *

"Let me get this straight," Steve sighed in exasperation, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers. "You went out in the middle of the night, bought hair dye, mixed it into shampoo, planned on pranking Stark with it and ended up getting Agent Romanoff instead."

"Yes," the archer hissed, crossing his arms across the counter top and resting his chin on them.

Rogers closed his eyes, rubbing at the corners, muttering, "How does that even work. . ."

"I don't know!" Clint shot back, suddenly sitting upright. "It was three in the morning, it's not like I really thought it through all that much!" He sniffed, settling his chin back on his arms. "I mean, I thought it'd be funny. Now I just hope I don't die."

The man across from him was about to offer some sort of reassuring reply when another voice cut in, and he turned on his stool and his comrade glanced up to find Tony Stark strolling into the kitchen looking rather amused. Clint found himself wary (and rightfully so) as to what that implied, but he just grimaced at the man's comment:

"Welcome to the club, we're placing orders for t-shirts next week." He snickered, hopping up onto the stool next to Captain America and entertained himself by snatching the man's water bottle and passing it between his formerly idle hands. "Trying not to die seems like a pretty good goal, if you ask me."

"Didn't ask you," Steve muttered, reaching out to steal back his drink before Stark had time to grab it again. The latter frowned when his plaything went missing and he then occupied himself with drumming his hands on the counter. "And if you're not going to help, why don't you just go. . .tinker in your lab or something?"

Tony pulled a look of mock hurt and placed a hand above his heart, right next to the arc reactor glowing through the material of his shirt that the other two men were still rather curious about but hadn't worked up the nerve to question. "But Cap! You hurt me. Do you dislike me so much you're trying to get rid of me? And in my own house too. This is pretty insulting." Not giving the men a chance to respond he stood, keeping his guest appearance brief and giving them both a mock salute. "I can see where I'm not wanted. Enough of your little pity party or what-have-you. I'll be off sciencing it up in the workshop and _not_ dyeing an assassin's hair."

"'Sciencing' isn't a word. . ." Rogers muttered just as Barton mumbled something under his breath about _why don't you just call your girlfriend and ask her to arrange some funerals_ when a strange, almost wet sound came from above them and Tony glanced up just in time to get hit in the face with bacon.

He looked back at his teammates while the strip of meat slid from his face and onto the counter.

"My ceiling gives free bacon now," he said slowly in disbelief, unaware of Thor's earlier cooking fiasco. "Sweet."

Steve watched with a frown as the man with a neatly trimmed goatee picked up the cold bacon, took a bite and left the room with an absent wave of his hand.

Clint just held up his and waited for free food to fall along with some sort of sign.

* * *

"It doesn't really look _that_ bad," Bruce offered, having bumped into a still steaming Natasha in the hallway as she ran her hand through her still damp hair for the umpteenth time. For the past five minutes he'd been attempting to placate her least she go off and defeather the Hawk. She paused in her ministrations and he merely shrugged.

She resumed her pace and he watched her for a moment, folding his arms and leaning against the wall as she did so. "Agent Romanoff, did something happen between you and Clint earlier?"

Natasha pulled a face, but whether it was one of pain or no he couldn't tell. What he could tell, if anything, was that it was clearly something that she wasn't exactly up for discussing. As such, he let it go and she carried on with her annoyed motions, leaving Bruce to watch as something akin to a mischievous, vengeful grin tugged at the corner of her lips.

"Dr. Banner. . .Bruce, would you mind helping with something?" The former Russian turned to face him and he momentarily froze at the look she had.

"I'm not going to regret this, am I?" he said after a beat and she shook her head.

"Of course not,"

"Famous last words as I've heard," the physicist muttered, his shoulders slumping marginally before he pulled away from the wall. "What do you want me to do, dare I ask?"

Natasha let out a humorless laugh, personally amused by the many different ideas running their head right then. "They want to play a game? Then let's play a game. . ."

Bruce let a frown mar his features before he pulled his expression back into one of tired indifference at her words. He shook his head, slightly bemused but not entirely sure how to deal with the situation and a plotting Black Widow. "I've got a bad feeling about this. . ."

Their conversation pretty much went nowhere after that, and Banner found himself thankful when Tony came wandering down the hallway chowing down on cold bacon of all things and practically dragged Bruce off with him to the lab. He made sure to keep his friend between himself and the woman before he animatedly began chattering about this idea he had for a robotic dinosaur and the other didn't bother enough to question the strange inner workings of Stark's mind.

Agent Romanoff waited until they'd wandered off around the corner—Bruce glanced at her over his shoulder, offering a look that she was sure was supposed to be helpful (it wasn't, but at least he'd tried)—and were asking each other about Thor's whereabouts before she let herself sigh. She leaned back against the wall, sliding down it until she was seated on the floor and placed a hand to her forehead in mild irritation and what could also be noted as confusion. Perturbed confusion, but confusion all the same.

"It's Budapest all over again."


End file.
